Tron: A new hope
by liannathejinx
Summary: When another User makes her way to the Grid and rescues a System Monitor, everything in both her world and the Grid begins to fall apart. Rated T for mild swears and inappropriate jokes, set a bit pre-Legacy but mostly after the end of the movie. Possible Tron X OC and major character deaths.
1. 1: A girl with dangerous hobbies

**Welcome to my first Tron fanfiction, and actually the first fanfiction I ever published! Please bear in mind that I am not a native English speaker, nor have I published something before, so there may be some mistakes I overlooked. The story is based most on the Legacy timeline, with references to other Tron media out there, and I have a good part of it already written. Next chapters are going to be up real soon.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs and my ideas, everything else belongs to the awesome guys who created it.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Chapter One: A girl with dangerous hobbies

"Mom, I'm home!"

"How was your day, sweetheart?"

I tossed my bag on the kitchen floor and hopped on my favorite place on the countertop, watching my mother cook dinner.

"As usual, school, boring classes, exam preparation, you know the drill," I said, stretching. "Boring stuff."

"I hope you didn't get another detention," mom warned, making me stifle a laugh.

"What makes you think that, mom? You know I'm a nice kid, and I promised that I won't get into trouble anymore."

"You said that the last time, too," she replied, "and you pulled the same innocent face. What did you do this time?"

I sighed; she seemed to have a sixth sense, always sniffing out my lies.

"Okay, I got another detention," I admitted. "But I swear I didn't hack the school network again. It was during the PE class, and we were playing Ultimate Frisbee; I kind of hit Jean between the eyes, but I didn't mean it, I swear!"

Mom lifted her gaze from what she was doing, and I shrank.

"You said that you were staying out of trouble with that girl," she deadpanned.

"She called me 'freak' and said that I should have stayed behind my stupid computer screen. She thinks that I broke into her Facebook account and wrote all those nasty things about her."

"And did you do that?"

I had showed her ex-boyfriend how to do it, but I didn't actually think that he would really mean it.

"Of course I didn't," I retorted, earning a glare from my mom. "But she assumed that I was the only one who could do it."

"And that was the reason you hit her?"

"Well, she also broke into my locker and messed up my things."

"I thought that you would be clever enough to let this grudge go, Emily," mom sighed. "But it's too late now. Come on, dinner's ready."

I ate quickly the chicken grill and fries on my plate, washed the dishes and went to my basement under the pretext of doing an assignment from class. I closed the door and locked it, stopping in front of the huge mirror on the wall on the way to my computer. My reflection glared back at me, sapphire blue eyes mocking and hard. I looked like one of the popular girls, tall, lithe and graceful, but not skinny, with a long mane of black hair hanging to the half of my back. The reflection had smooth features and porcelain skin, which had earned me the nickname of "Snow white" sometime during my sophomore year. An ironical grin painted itself on my lips: I couldn't have been one of them. I was the computer geek. I pulled some faces in the mirror, pouting and posing like the cheerleaders did when the guys approached them on the hallways; it felt awkward and unnatural, and I went to my laptop.

Everyone knew me as Emily Grant, an 18 year old student from Lincoln High, New York, but when I wasn't at school or doing chores I passed my time in the virtual world under the hacker name of Enyo. I had taken it from a goddess of war in Greek mythology, and it meant "warlike". It had become known in the virtual world after I hacked my way into some of the most secure networks existing, and now I was on my way to adding another hit on my list: ENCOM.

I had learned that the company had ditched their famous firewall program, TRON that had protected their data since before the first CEO, Kevin Flynn, went missing 20 years ago. I cracked my knuckles and started my work. I had already run a trace program, so all I had to do now was to break their defenses. The time flew by as I typed on the keyboard furiously: run a quick diagnostic - "aww, what a cute firewall you have"- it's a decoy, find the true one, and erase the traces. A little past midnight I reached the final one, which has resisted all my attempts to breach it.

"You won't budge, will you?," I muttered. "Time to get the 'big baby', then."

I inserted a disk to the unit; it had my ultimate weapon, a special virus with a learning algorithm that adapted to the task I gave it. A message appeared on the screen:

Proceed:

Y N

I hit the 'y' key, watching the 'big baby' work. It was a matter of time until...

"Yesss, it worked!," I cheered. "My grandma has better firewalls on her computer!"

All the ENCOM data scrolled on the screen obediently, but I wasn't interested in stealing any of it. I prepared to leave them the usual "Owned you, punks" message, when some files caught my attention. There was a copy of TRON, and I looked into the data log.

Function: Firewall/Obsolete

Number of copies: 2

Mention: Moved to Grid

Author: Alan-One

What the hell was this 'Grid'? My curiosity was stronger than my caution, so I continued searching. I found the project of a 'digitizing laser', and some more references to this 'Grid', all pointing me to Flynn's personal computer.

I paused for a moment; entering the ENCOM network was something, but a personal computer? That was a whole another problem. Again, my curiosity won, and I began the same process of diagnostics, until I was stopped dead in my tracks by the strongest firewall I had ever seen. Not even the 'big baby' could breach it, so I began helping it. Everything I did was countered by the program, halting my progress.

I swore, one harsh obscenity, and looked better at the way the firewall had behaved. It had a learning quality that allowed it to push back my virus, but after some time I found a way to get in: I had to mimic it and make it believe that I was a part of it. More hours passed as I painstakingly avoided the obstacles, and by the time I got in my eyes burned and my head throbbed. I winced when I glanced at the clock: it was 6:54 AM. I had stayed up all night. Despite being tired and stiff, I felt the warm satisfaction of victory, and made sure to leave a back door in the system for me to get in again before getting up with a groan and getting ready for school.

It took me 3 sleepless months, all my economies - also some mobster's economies (teeheee, he had stolen it anyway) - and a dozen of "scrap it all, start again" moments to build the digitizing laser from scratch in the basement of an old industrial building three blocks away where I had set my headquarters under the motorcycle repair shop my best friend ran. I still didn't know what to do with it, and I searched through the data for a clue until I found some note about a "failsafe" and about a portal that could only be opened from the outside. I modified the launch sequence to go both ways, but I didn't have the courage to try it.

It had been on the back of my mind for some time, curiosity gnawing at me like a bug, before I finally mustered the will to do it.

"Mum, I'm going to work on the new bike I got," I told her after dinner, two weeks after finishing the laser.

"Okay, sweetie, be careful," she chimed, smoothing my hair.

I hopped on my motorcycle, an old-school piece I salvaged from a scrapyard and reconditioned myself, heading to Mike's Bikes. I left the bike in front of the shop, and went in.

"Heya, Mike," I greeted

"To the basement again, girl?," he laughed from underneath a red Ducati. "You need to see the sun, or everyone will believe you're a vampire. What's so fun about those computer screens?"

"What's so fun about the outside world?," I retorted, continuing to the basement door.

I paused for a second in front of the keyboard. What was going to happen? From what I found in Flynn's logs, that laser sent you somewhere. Where would it send me? And, more important, will I be able to come back?

"Come on girl, man up," I muttered, as I entered the starting sequence.

Proceed?

Y_ N

I took a deep breath and pressed 'y'. The world turned bright blue, then black, then nothing.

I woke up flat on my back, looking at the dark, cloudy sky above, surrounded by the sound of waves. Wait, waves? I scrambled to my legs and my jaw dropped as I took in my surroundings.

"Oh. My. God," I gasped, struggling for air.

I was on the edge of a rocky cliff above a large body of water that looked like it was made from pixels, moving up and down like the waves of a sea. Behind me, the tall buildings of a city rocketed to the dark sky, and I could see brightly lit vehicles, some red, and some bright blue rolling on the streets. Flying... things -they looked more like alien ships than planes- soared above the cityscape.

It was true what Flynn left in the logs, the laser did send you somewhere. I thought about returning and a bright writing appeared in front of me:

ACTIVATE:_

Y N

Oh, so I could go back. I touched the floating 'n', and the message disappeared. Only then I had noticed what I was wearing. I had been wearing a leather jacket, tank top, jeans motorbike boots, all black. What I had on was similar, but instead of the zipper of the jacket was a white glowing band, just like the patch on my boots and the stripes on the outside of my legs. Also, I had something on my back, and when I reached between my shoulders I felt something quite large and round. It was some sort of disk, lit with white too. It was attached to some kind of dock between my shoulder blades, and I put it back with a feeling that it was more than just a decoration. I bent over to pick a rock, and as I touched it I could see the code embedded in it.

Only then it hit me: I was on the Grid. Kevin Flynn had created an entire world inside a computer, and by activating the laser you got sent inside. I felt a huge grin split my face.

"If the others knew where I am..."

The sound of thrusters pulled me from my daydreaming, and I looked up to one of those ships hover above me, red circuit lines glowing. I shook myself from the shock of seeing it and tried to run, but the ground sank around me leaving a hexagonal island. A platform lowered and two guys wearing black, skin-tight suits and helmets grabbed me.

"Another stray," one of them growled, pulling me to the platform. His voice had a weird digital tone like it was synthetized.

They sat me between two men and restraints appeared on my feet, binding them to the floor so I couldn't run away; the guards resumed their position on the platform and we took off, flying over the city to some kind of arena. The other guys on the ship were silent, and I looked at the city below my feet. It had a strange beauty to its dimly lit streets, circuit-like lights and shapes. The inhabitants looked like ants because of the altitude of the ship.

After some time - I couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours since I arrived- the ship landed in front of an arena, with another guard coming to check us. It looked like he scanned us - or that's what his code told me. I had forgotten about this, but I supposed that I could maybe manipulate what surrounded me so I tried to find the opening sequence to the foot cuffs pinning me to the floor. Too late though: it was my turn to be scanned.

"Games," the guard announced, signaling other two to remove me from the ship and strap me to another hexagonal platform that sank to an underground facility. From there, everything kind of bled together: four women moving in strange unison, stripping me of my clothes and giving me a skin-tight suit of armor, stepping off the platform and heading to an opened gate, darkness, then light and the cheers of a crowd as a huge ship with yellow circuitry landed and docked above the arena.

It was unbelievable.

I shrugged the shock and awe away, looking at my opponent, a blue-circuited guy, and snapped out my Disk mirroring his battle stance. The Disk's edge lit up, and a helmet appeared to cover my face.

"Combatants 6 and 4 - Disk Wars," a voice announced.

The other guy threw the Disk towards where I was standing, only to hit nothing but air;

I had already ducked and rolled out of danger, mentally praising my idea of doing parkour and all kinds of fighting techniques for fun back home. I tossed my Disk in what my classmates had named "the impossible curve toss", making it ricochet of the glass walls of the module, but the other guy avoided it. Instincts I never knew I had taken me over and I broke into a sprint, catching the Disk mid-flight, and leaped over the gap between the module halves to my opponent's. Three swift strikes of my Disk later he was disintegrating, and the voice of the Arena announced my victory and his deresolution. Oh, so that's what they call death here. You derezz.

The modules rearranged, facing me with a horribly scarred dude; this time I knew what the Disk would do: the edge was sharp, derezzing someone with a direct hit, it always returned when you tossed it and it was good for deflecting other Disks too. The scarred dude and the next dude fell under my Disk fairly easily, and I was the only one left in the Arena.

"I won!" I shouted. "Now what?"

The Arena voice answered me immediately.

"Combatant 4 versus Rinzler, final battle."

The crowds cheered even louder, as the modules rearranged into a larger arena, while two carried me and another guy, garbed in black with just some streaks of orange-red and four dots resembling a T just below his throat. The most startling was the featureless black mask he wore, and the broken purring sound he emitted. Obviously male, he carried a feline grace I usually associated to gymnasts and acrobats, but not without strength. He looked like a predator, and I was supposed to be his prey.

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

Rinzler whipped out his Disk, twisting it and revealing twin Disks that glowed orange, assuming a battle stance, always purring. I blink and the next things I see are his Disks shooting towards me, and I roll out of the way, tossing my own disk. I notice some arrows on the far wall of the arena twisting, and a quick glance at the code tells me they reversed gravity. The Rinzler had noticed it too, and we both start running to the curved walls at the end of the modules. Gravity reverses, and he leaps to an impossible height, landing in front of me, slamming his left Disk towards my chest, but I manage to deflect it in the last moment. The Rinzler's weapons whirl like chopper blades around me, and all I can do is defend myself against his onslaught. If I miss one step, if I duck a second too late, I'm dead.

The fight continues for God knows how much, looking more like a dance. Slash, duck, block, leap out of the way. Gravity reverses back to normal and I miss a step, breaking the rhythm and he kicks me to the ground, knocking my Disk out of my grasp, but not too far that I can't reach it. In the blink of an eye he's kneeling on my chest holding a Disk to my throat.

Rinzler POV

The girl is on the ground, my Disk an inch from her throat, when a grin paints itself on her lips.

"You make a move and we both derezz," she growls, and I hear a faint whir to my left.

Her Disk was inches from my midsection, and I know that she is right.

Clu won't be happy about this.

Enyo POV

Rinzler froze when he saw the Disk I was pointing to his ribs. The crowd was silent, and for a long moment I stare at the blank mask in front of my face in mute defiance, daring him to finish me and die himself. I could swear that he was considering what to do when he did the last thing I expected: he offlined his Disks and grabbed me, setting me on my feet before raising my right arm in the air in the universal sign for victory.

Even the passengers of the ship had stood up; I could see a cloaked and masked man with yellow circuitry and a skinny one with red lights stare at us. The spectators howled and cheered as I stood dumbfounded, my hand in Rinzler's steady grip. He had spared me.

A male voice covered the roaring crowd - the skinny guy.

"Identify yourself, Program!"

I thought quickly before answering, almost feeling all the gazes on me.

"My name is Enyo."

Every man in the arena - I suppose I should call them Programs - began chanting my name. The masked man told the other something, before turning back to us.

"I require your presence here," he ordered. "We have to celebrate our new... champion, I suppose."

Rinzler grabbed me again as the platform lowered, dragging me to the entrance, and I knew somehow that they mustn't find out who I am. Two more guards flanked me, pointing to a long corridor, and I acted quickly, kicking one of them down before whipping my Disk out and derezzing the other. I evaded Rinzler's grasp and ran on the corridor as fast as my legs could carry me. I had to get out before he caught me, so I did the only thing possible: I used the code to point me to some mean of transportation. The main hangar was close, but the guards and Rinzler were closing in fast.

"What the hell am I doing?" I told myself, remembering the laser.

Immediately the message appeared, and as the Programs closed around me I pressed the 'y' key, turning the world bright blue again.

When I exited the basement, Mike got up from his work and took in my shocked face.

"Emily, what..."

"How long had I been in there?" I interrupted him.

"Less than a minute, why? You look shaken..."

'If you only knew where I 've been, Mike...'

"I need all the keys from the basement. Do not let anyone get in, do not talk about it to anyone, and most important, do not go in there, you understand?"

He looked dumbfounded, but he handed me the keys and I locked the door twice.

"Emily, what happened?"

"It's better if you don't know, trust me," I told him. "Got to go, see you soon."

I left, leaving him shocked and amazed in the door as I sped home.


	2. 2: New friends

**Next one's up! In this one, Emily meets a certain Enforcer in a much different way, and she has to make a choice that will influence both of their lives.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Over the next four months I went almost every night on the Grid. It was really fascinating, and I started to learn more and more about it, sneaking into Tron city and avoiding the Black Guard at all costs. Its history was both great and painful, as a program, Zorn, had told me from behind a drink at the End of Line club. He spoke about the first days, when Flynn and Tron and Clu worked together to build the perfect system: the Creator, the System Monitor and the Administrator.

"CLU looked just like Flynn, you know," he whispered, looking around us with caution. "And Tron... he was the greatest warrior that the Grid has ever seen. I bet he could derezz that Enforcer, Rinzler, in an instant."

I winced remembering the black mask, orange circuits and broken purring of the Enforcer.

"Too bad that he's probably dead," the program sighed. "What a waste."

"What happened?"

"One day, the ISOs came."

"ISOs?"

"Isomorphic Algorithms," he explained. "They appeared out of the Sea of Simulations, nobody knew where they came from, not even the Creator. Unlike us, they had no specific programming, they learned everything, were just as creative and versatile as the Users themselves. While Flynn saw them as a miracle, many, Clu among them, thought they were a blight on the Grid. One day, he overthrew Flynn, killed Tron as the Monitor protected the Creator, and set out to destroy the ISOs. It was a massacre; the Black Guard executing ISOs in the streets, Flynn and Tron gone. Imagine this entire city drowned in chaos. We call it the Purge."

I sipped from my drink, looking around for any threat, but there was none, so I motioned Zorn to continue.

"Since then, Clu controls the Grid. There are some among us who believe that Flynn and the Users could save us, but truth is that we have little hope left. Programs are disappearing, they have patrols everywhere, and many believe that by resisting we'll do more bad than good."

We exchanged more pleasantries and I left, pulling the cloak closer to my body. The Grid was cold tonight, the chilly rain making me shiver as I approached a door and knocked once, then twice then three times. It creaked open, and grey eyes peeked out.

"Were you followed?"

"No."

"Good, come in."

The Program opened the door and I hurried inside, taking off the cloak. Ori, the Program who answered the door, took it from me, and I followed her to the basement.

"I thought you won't make it," she commented. "What took you so long?"

"You know," I answered casually, "having drinks at the Club, hanging out, things like that."

"I hope you didn't over energize," she retorted, "we have some guys ready for an arse kicking waiting."

"Come on, Ori, I could take them in my sleep and you know that."

"I'm betting on you, so you'd better win."

I snorted, dismissing them with a wave of my hand. I had a natural skill with the Disk, and training made me even better. Ori and Zorn sometimes teased me, saying that I must be related to Rinzler, because I had the same kind of feline strength and lighting reflexes the Enforcer had, and many Guards had learned the hard way not to mess with me.

Ori opened a concealed door and I rezzed a black mask to cover my features, unwilling to risk letting the others see my face. The makeshift Disk Arena was crowded, and a Program was already in the ring, eager to start the fight. Five minutes later, he was on his stomach with my knee pressing on his back and my Disk at his throat. Ori was gloating, demanding the others to pay and I got up, heading to the exit.

"Let me know when you come again," Ori shouted. "Same hour, same place."

I nodded, and when I got outside I took out a baton, rezzing a Lightcycle and sped to a safe place for the transfer home.

I knew my mother was sick for some time; she had cancer, and went to many rounds of chemo and other treatments before the doctors declared that she was in remission. Nothing had prepared me for the day when I came home from Mike's and found the ambulance in front of the house, my mother being pushed on a berth by the medics, pale looking and weak. The doctors said that she was hiding the relapse, wanting to be by my side to the last day. She died three days later, with her hand in mine and a peaceful smile on her lips.

"What news from the hospital?" Mike asked when I entered the bike shop later that night.

I said nothing; if I opened my mouth I would start crying until I shriveled like a corpse and died too. Mike's eyes went wide and he pulled me into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Em," he whispered.

After some time, I pulled myself from his arms, tears streaming on my face.

"I can't stay in that house," I blurted. "It's empty without her."

You can come here," he offered. "You can put something up in that basement of yours."

"Thanks, Mike," I said, wiping my tears with a sleeve. "I'm going to..."

"The basement, of course. Go, kid, do your thing."

Later, I hoped that he hadn't heard me sob my eyes out collapsed on the bottom step.

When I entered Tron city, I immediately noticed that something was off. Black Guards and ordinary Programs alike were running aimlessly on the streets, the End of the Line club was destroyed and everything was in chaos. I grabbed a female Program that went past me, stopping her.

"What happened here?"

"Clu and the Maker are derezzed, a new User appeared, the Guard are derezzing us at random," she rasped.

I let her go, flinching as a Guard jammed his disk into a Program, derezzing him a few streets away. I took to some shortcuts and got out of the city, hiding carefully and avoiding the Guards at all costs, until I found myself on the shore where I first rezzed into the Grid. A light caught my eye on the beach below. I climbed down to the shore, retrieving an Identity Disk that glowed faint blue-white. I looked around for its owner and there he was, laying on the black sand face down, gentle waves rolling over him. It was male, obviously, and I approached him cautiously, Disk ready to strike. I rolled him face up and jumped back in horror when I saw the black mask and the four pixels on his throat.

"Rinzler!," I gasped, assuming a defensive position.

The Enforcer groaned pitifully, and I noticed a gaping wound on his side.

"Not... Rinzler... anymore," he rasped. "...know... you... Enyo..."

"Identify, Program," I asked, still ready to strike.

He barked a laugh that turned to a strangled cry of pain, and he arched his back off the sand.

"I was... Tron..." he finally said.

"Tron's derezzed many cycles ago," I growled.

"Why don't... you look... my Disks..."

He pointed weakly to the Disk I had found, and I turned on the memory files. His whole life passed in front of me, from the time Flynn brought him in the system, to the Coup, and then...

I gasped, almost dropping the Disks in horror when I saw what Clu had done to him. The Admin had almost killed Tron, but he escaped. He had helped Beck, the Renegade, training him, but he was caught again and Clu repurposed him and sent him after the Renegade. I watched the fight, Beck falling, Tron delivering the final blow and realizing what he had done as his friend derezzed in his arms.

I looked back at the wounded Monitor, just as he derezzed his mask. A horrible scar went from his left eye all the way down his suit, and his eerily handsome features were drenched in sweat, his reddish hair sticking to his head.

"Believe me now?" he asked wearily.

I nodded and offlined the hologram, lifting him from the sand to put his Disks back to the dock.

"Can you stand?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Come on, I'll help you," I replied, grabbing his arm.

He gave another cry of pain, but got to his feet, and we made our way to the cliff.

"You're wounded badly," I commented a while later.

Tron gave me the "you don't say" look, and I chuckled.

"I'll fix you when we get to safety."

"Are you a medical Program?"

"Nope," I said, making him frown.

"Then how are you going to fix me?"

"I know your code," I deadpanned.

"You know my...? Where from?!," he blurted, eyes wide in shock.

"Well, it's complicated, I'll tell you..."

A familiar thruster sound cut off my explanation, making both of us to look up.

"Recognizer," Tron hissed, reaching for his Disks.

"Uh-oh, that's not good. Definitely not good."

I felt Tron's hand tighten its grip on my shoulder as the Recognizer closed upon us.

"We have to make a run for it," I shouted over the thruster sound. "Can you do it?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"Stand and fight sounds better?"

The Monitor growled.

"Actually, it does."

I whipped out my own Disk just in time as the platform lowered and six Guards came down, weapons ready.

"Surrender your weapons, Programs," one of them ordered.

Tron twisted his Disk revealing the second one and I made a mock bow.

"Come and get them," I hissed.

The guards lunged at us, and I soon got into the usual clarity I experienced in a fight. Block, hit, derezz, leap in the air, hit again. Behind me, Tron was finishing a guard when another rammed into his left side, where he had his worst wound. The Monitor faltered, crying in pain and collapsing to his knees, as the guard raised its Disk.

I threw mine, derezzing him, and helped Tron to his feet.

"Duck," he ordered and I rolled out of the way as he stabbed the guard.

I picked the Disk of the one I killed, and amazingly it activated in my hand. I didn't put too much thought in it, finishing the last guard before tossing it on the ground and hurrying to support Tron again.

"Can you fly one of these?" I asked, pointing to the Recognizer.

"Yes," he answered with a grimace of pain.

We boarded the platform, going to the pilot stand where the Monitor took the controls, getting us airborne.

"Where are we going?," he asked after we put some distance between us and the city.

"Far from the city, somewhere where we can hide."

"There's nothing in the Outlands."

I stood silent, trying to make up a plan.

"Enyo?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

The words were quiet, barely audible, but I nodded. I knew what was unspoken.

"Thank you for not derezzing me when you had the chance, and believing in me."

We stood silent for some time, Tron piloting while I sat cross legged on the floor looking at the barren landscape around.

"There," I said, pointing to a rocky hill. "Land there."

He did what I asked, taking the Recognizer down to a natural platform and we got out, the Monitor still leaning on my shoulder.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

A grimace twisted his features again before he fell on the ground, howling in pain, eyes shut firmly.

Tron POV

Argh, Users, it hurt so bad!

I had gotten the wound when the light jet I drove slammed into Clu's, sending us both tumbling to the Sea of Simulations, and it was as bad as it looked. The fact that the Black Guard had slammed it didn't help, neither did the viral code of the Sea.

I opened my eyes to see Enyo leaning over me, worry painted on her face.

"Shelter can wait," she said, pulling me up so she could reach my Disks.

I cried again, and the world went black.

Enyo POV

I worked as fast as I could, searching for the broken code, mending and replacing it. There were still traces of repurposing attached to his code, but attempting to take them out would make it unstable or even reactivate the Rinzler, so I left them alone, focusing on his wounds instead.

Tron was limp and unmoving while I worked, and if it wasn't for his shallow breath and pulsing glow of the circuitry I would have thought him dead. After I finished fixing his Disk I lifted him again carefully, docking the Disk and allowing his systems to reboot.

I got up, wiping some gravel from my armor as I looked around. The rocky formation was perfect for a hideout, so I took a deep breath, kneeling on the ground and putting my hand on it. The code shifted, bending to my will, creating walls, rooms, furniture and everything we would need for an extended stay in the Outlands.

It was the first time programming something that big in the Grid, and man, it was amazing to see everything generate in front of my eyes. The hideout was half buried underground, with a garage/flight deck level, living quarters that could accommodate 2 people, a Disk Arena, training room, med bay and a huge common room with a view to Tron City. Apart from the normal facilities (yes, I even put a pool and jacuzzi), I got everything I could think of: Lightcycle and Lightjet batons, a Lightrunner, even some kind of laser guns in the eventuality of having to defend ourselves. It was a fortress, really, and I loved it.

When I finished I half dragged, half pulled the rebooting Program to one of the rooms, depositing him on the bed. The horrible gash on his side had closed almost entirely, and finally his face lost the grey shade it had. After checking his vitals one more time, I sleepwalked to my own room, crashing on the soft mattress before I passed out.

Tron POV.

The first things I noticed when I woke up was the high ceiling over my head and the lack of pain from my side. I ran a quick scan and all the systems were online, but where in Flynn's name was I?

I couldn't recognize the room, but I was lying on a bed, without any restraints whatsoever. I went to the door, tensing to anticipate any threat, but the hallway was empty as far as I could see, with a half open door at the far end. I pushed it open, Disk blazing and ready, only to see the Program who saved me earlier, Enyo, sprawled on a bed sleeping. I accidentally nicked a vase next to the door and she bolted up, reaching to her Disk and looking like she was still caught in a dream.

"Take it easy," I soothed. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

The girl finally relaxed, dropping her hand.

"How long was I out?"

"It's been a little more than a milicycle since you fixed me, I guess," I shrugged. "Where are we?"

"We needed shelter, so I got us shelter," she said, waving to the room before adding "or more like I encoded it, to be exact."

Only then I pieced what she had said about knowing my code earlier.

Enyo POV

Tron looked like someone had struck him really hard.

"What?" I asked.

"User," he exclaimed, "you're a User!"

I took a bow, grinning like a maniac.

"How do you think I could fix your wound, or build this place from scratch?"

"That's why you ran away when Clu ordered me to bring you to the Throne Ship, you couldn't let him, or me for that matter, know what you were."

"If you would have got me to Clu, I would have been derezzed by now," I deadpanned, "but it doesn't matter. You are not the Rinzler anymore, and Clu is dead."

Tron sat on a couch, looking still shaken and pale.

"Another User," he whispered for himself. "It's the best news I heard since I saw the explosion that took Flynn. What do we do now?"

"'We' do nothing. I'll go back to the city and find out what's happening while you stay here."

The Monitor bolted up outraged.

"You can't expect me to rot here when the Programs out there may need my help!," he shouted, already striding to the door. "I'm coming too."

God, I was expecting that he wouldn't take it easily. With one leap I blocked the doorway, getting into his way. His steel blue eyes were hard and determined, burning into mine.

"You aren't going anywhere," I growled, "or I'll put you flat on your back and lock you in here."

He snorted, and I raised an eyebrow.

"What, don't you think I can do it?"

"I'd like to see you try," he provoked. "The last time we fought you almost got yourself derezzed."

Oh, he didn't say that.

With one swift movement and a flash of limbs I knocked his feet off the ground and pinned him under my knee, with an elbow pressing on his throat.

"Can't put you down, huh?," I said, my face a few inches from his.

Tron laughed from under my grip, wriggling free and spinning me backwards. His hands caught my arms in a viselike grip, pressing me into the doorframe with his weight.

"First lesson: mind your surroundings," he chuckled in my ear, "and most importantly, don't get distracted. Why shouldn't I go with you? You could use my help."

He released me and I turned to face him again.

"One: I can handle myself, and two: they'll make the same mistake I did."

"And what is that?"

"They won't see Tron, the System Monitor, they'll think you are the Rinzler, who has derezzed countless programs and..."

I sighed sadly, looking away from his hurt gaze.

"You get the picture. They'll hunt you down."

"I'm sorry for what I did, but technically it wasn't me. It was Clu's virus."

"I know, Tron, I really do," I pleaded, "but you can't blame them."

The Monitor bowed his head and finally nodded; I could see that he was dying to go.

"Okay, you go," he sighed, "but if it takes you more than a milicycle I'm coming for you. I don't care if I have to tear Tron City apart to find you, you understand?"

I nodded and sprinted to the deck, rezzing a Lightcycle and speeding away to the city.


	3. 3: Loss

**This chapter picks up from where the last one ended, and I have a few words to describe it: sad beginning, funnier end.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Tron POV

It was just past the time Enyo should have returned when I started to get worried. The User didn't seem the kind to run late, meaning that she got into trouble downtown. I finished the training exercise, checking the time again before heading directly to a rack full of batons from which I grabbed one for a Lightjet. I climbed up to the top of the facility, breaking into a run to make the jump and rezzed the vehicle.

I made it to the city and went on the familiar network of streets, searching for the User when I heard a familiar scream and sprinted to its source.

Enyo was in a square, fighting four Black Guards trying to protect a female Program who lay on the ground, code spilling from a deep gash on her chest. I hurried to her, rolling her to face me and I found myself gazing in horror upon Yori's face.

"Tron," she whispered.

All I could do was nod, my hands ghosting over her wounds. The edges were already derezzing and I knew that even if Enyo would try to heal her, she wouldn't make it. Yori smiled feebly, raising a hand to touch my cheek, and I knew her last words would forever haunt me.

"It's too late, my love," she murmured. "There's nothing you could have done. At least I get to see you... one last time..."

Her eyes closed and her body disintegrated to bright blue pixels in my arms as she derezzed, and I felt a part of me derezz too.

Enyo POV

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Tron's wail of anguish echoed on the streets, and I froze for a second - I was so caught in the battle I hadn't noticed his arrival - watching as he kneeled in front of Yori's remains. The guards used my hesitation and one of them managed to slash my right shoulder. Red drops fell to the ground , shining like rubies.

"User," one of the Guards growled, before knocking me down.

I watched the reddish glow of his Disk inching towards me for what felt like an eternity before twin Disks derezzed him.

Tron was ferocious, slashing with deadly precision until there was nobody left alive. He derezzed the last guard with one swift movement before heading to Yori's side where he collapsed again, tears streaming on his face.

Tron POV

DEAD! She was dead, and it was all my fault! Yori Anon Flynn Beck. All derezzed. My fault. Why? Why? Not good enough. Not Tron, Rinzler. How many had I derezzed? How many lives ended on the edge of my Disks?

"Why, Users, why?!," I cried to the heavens.

My vision blurred to a fog of grief and rage, and all I could see was Yori's pale face, all I could hear were her last words. She was gone. She was gone, and it was just like I had derezzed her myself.

"Tron..."

I ignored the voice calling my name. All that mattered for me in my whole existence was lost now.

"Tron..." the familiar voice called again cautiously as someone kneeled beside me.

I turned to face Enyo, her sapphire gaze sad but determined.

"We have to go," she spoke softly.

I shook my head, looking again to Yori's remains as she set a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"She wouldn't want you to derezz because of her," the User insisted. "We have to go, Tron. We have to. Please."

The urgency in Enyo's tone finally got to me and I stood up, helping her too.

"Goodbye, my love," I whispered, running away from the square.

A while after I noticed that Enyo was falling behind. She caught my unspoken question, shrugging.

"It's nothing, just a sprained ankle," she dismissed but I could notice her limp.

"I must have got it during the skirmish."

I grinded to a halt, forcing the User to stop too so I could check her ankle.

"It's okay, really," she protested when I laid her down in the empty alleyway. "No need to go all mother hen about it."

"Mother what? Users, you really have weird expressions where you come from," I muttered under my breath, moving her ankle to test its stability. "It's an easy injury, Beck got lots of those in training..."

... before I derezzed him.

"The Renegade of Argon City?"

"The same," I nodded, getting up. "You shouldn't put too much stress on it and using the Lightcycle is out of question, so we should find some means of transport."

Enyo cocked her head as if she was listening before pointing down the alley.

"There's a garage about two streets down, and I could bet they have a Lightrunner," she said as she grabbed my extended arm and got to her feet. We went to the door she indicated and inside we indeed found a Lightrunner.

"How did you do that?," I asked while I drove to the hideout.

"Do what?"

"How did you find the Lightrunner?"

Enyo shrugged.

"A simple query, and the code pointed me to what I needed," she explained. "Flynn made the Grid User-friendly: if you know how to encode, it's fairly easy to get what you want."

She took her Disk, turning on the holographic memory files that showed her in front of a computer screen typing furiously.

"I'm a hacker back home, and the last system I broke into was ENCOM," she continued. "That's how I discovered the Grid, by finding a note on your data files that said "transferred to Grid.""

I didn't continue the discussion, thinking about what happened back in town.

'I'll miss you so much, Yori...'

Enyo POV

We got to the hideout and Tron went directly to his quarters without a word and I let him mourn Yori in peace. After all, he had no Grid to escape to in order to forget his loss, and I knew how he felt: after all, three milicycles ago I was the same.

I fussed around the living room, trying to find a way to help him, but there was only one I could think about and it was so out of the ordinary I didn't even know if it would work.

When I thought that the floorboards would get thinned if I paced any more I went and knocked on Tron's door before opening it.

"Can I come in?"

I found Tron sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He looked up when I came in and I could see that his steel blue eyes were swollen and tears ran freely on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "When I found her she was already down and all I could do was try and get those guys away."

The sadness in those steel blue eyes froze my words on their way, making me flinch uncomfortably. I felt like he was probing all the way deep down my soul.

"It wasn't your fault," he finally spoke, looking down. "You couldn't have done anything more than you already did."

"That's not what I came to tell you. I have to go back to my world and make some arrangements."

I paused, sitting next to him.

"Will you be okay? While I'm gone, I mean."

"Eventually, yes."

"I know how it feels," I reassured.

The Monitor glanced at me.

"Do you?"

"My dad passed away when I was 8, and mum died in front of my eyes about an hour before I came to the Grid tonight." I sighed, getting to the door. "The only reason I'm not curled up in a corner crying my eyes out right now is that you needed my help, and I couldn't let you get yourself derezzed when I could do something about it."

"You did more than I deserved, Enyo."

"Emily," I corrected as I stepped out. "My User name is Emily."

When I de-digitized back into our world I saw that the papers on my desk were moved from their usual place as if someone had rummaged through them, looking for something. I caught a movement to my left and lunged, grabbing the intruder and tossed him on the ground, pinning him in a tight grip.

"Mike, you idiot, what the hell are you doing here?!" I yelled.

"Damn it, girl, you could have killed me!," he shrieked.

I pulled him up and he wavered on his feet, looking at me like I had transformed into an alien.

"Yes, I could have, dumbass," I hissed. "I thought I told you not to come down here!"

"I just wanted to check on you, and you had just vanished!"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. This wasn't going to end well.

"I didn't mean to tell you like this," I started, "but I have no choice now. You have seen the laser there?"

Mike nodded confusedly.

"Well, that's hooked up to the computers, allowing me to physically enter a computer network called the Grid. That's where I went. It's an entire world in there, inhabited by Programs like the one I rescued tonight."

Mike burst into nervous laughter after a moment, like all of it was a weird joke.

"It's one of your pranks, isn't it? You just hid somewhere and tried to scare me. You can't possibly..."

I shot him a death glare that could give Tron a run for his money before I went to the keyboard and inserted the launching sequence for the laser.

"Okay, if you don't believe me watch this."

I hit the start key and the laser activated.

"Em," Mike warned right when we got shot into the computer.

Moments later we were in the garage area and the floor lit up under my feet. Mike looked around in awe at the white walls and the racks adorning them, looking like someone had hit him and gasping for breath.

"You weren't kidding," he blurted. "Are we really in a computer program?"

"Yup, we are," I chimed.

"This is awesome! Did you make all of these? And I don't know what the hell you're wearing, but it looks kick-ass."

I nodded smugly before I heard footsteps from the hallway and Tron ran inside in all his System Monitor glory, Disks blazing in his hands and ready to fight. His steel blue eyes assessed us and he finally relaxed, which couldn't be said about Mike who cowered and almost hid behind my back. I had to admit that he was right: Tron looked every inch like the formidable warrior he was, scars and all, and I couldn't help but imagine Mike's face if he had met him as the Rinzler. If the Monitor was imposing, Rinzler had been downright scary, and I stifled a laugh.

"You were faster than I thought, En... sorry, Emily," Tron rumbled, lowering his Disks, "and I see you brought guests."

"Unexpected complications," I explained, pointing to Mike.

My friend was still scared shitless, glaring at the Monitor from behind my back and Tron let out a warm laugh.

"I must have scared your friend," he chuckled. "Come on, I don't bite."

"But you can kick both our asses with one hand while blindfolded," I snorted, earning a death glare from Mike and a lopsided smile from Tron. So he has a sense of humor, after all.

"You're probably right with that," he admitted.

"Probably?! Two words: Game. Arena."

"You held up pretty well for a rookie," the Monitor grinned, "I'll give you that, but you still have much to learn."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, "now he gives me the Zen master stuff."

"I heard that, and you'd better remember that I've been fighting since before you were born, User. So in my view you're still the blockheaded apprentice who first cuts himself and runs crying to its mama."

"No I'm not!"

"You still haven't introduced us," Tron pointed

During our exchange, Mike finally relaxed and came out of his hideout carefully and I pushed him forward.

"This is Mike, my childhood friend. Mike, you've already met Tron, the guy told you about."

The Monitor shook Mike's trembling hand with a reassuring smile.

"It's an honor to meet you, User," he said. "Your kind is rare around the Grid."

"What do you mean? Aren't there more of these... Users around?"

The Monitor went serious again, and I bowed my head too.

"There used to be some," I explained, "but at the moment I'm the only one who comes here. One of them was Kevin Flynn."

"Wasn't he the CEO of ENCOM?"

"And our Creator," Tron completed. "But he's derezzed - well, dead, in your words."

The Monitor shuddered, probably remembering his time spent under CLU's control, and I quickly changed the subject.

"Well, we must be off," I said. "Don't expect me back for a User day or so. Please, don't get yourself derezzed, Tron."

"Do I look like I have a death wish?," he retorted.

I barked a laugh and initiated the launch sequence, transporting Mike and I back home.

"Whoa," my best friend gasped, "that was weird but awesome."

"Yeah, it was. It's unbelievable, really, it's like nothing I've ever experienced before. We Users can do incredible things in there, it's like being a god."

"Is that where you learned how to kick arse like that?"

I chuckled darkly, cracking my knuckles.

"Yup," I chimed.

"Isn't it, I don't know, peaceful?"

"Did Tron look peaceful to you?"

Mike shook his head and I grinned.

"I had to defend myself, more so after I had a nasty run with a repurposed Tron the first time I went in. He almost killed me in the Games, so I had to learn how to fight. I'm not as good as he is, though I knocked him flat once when he wasn't paying attention."

Mike looked at me for a moment as if he assessed me before opening the door.

"You've changed a lot, Em," he said before going out, "and in a good way."


	4. 4 Sore User

**I noticed a layout problem with my other chapters, I'm trying to fix it. This chappie is all about moving in and out of homes/worlds and some Programs who don't take a lost race too easy.**

**Disclaimer:I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Two weeks later I put down the last box, looking around me at my new room. Earlier today Mike helped me move all my belongings to a large room above the shop where we deposited them in neat piles. I brought my bed from home, a large closet and a desk along with a couch and some rugs, and Mike made some shelves from planks lying around in the shop. It wasn't much, but it was comfortable and I loved the industrial lights and the large windows.

"Em, come help me with this," Mike called from the stairs, struggling with my mirror.

I got to him just as it was slipping out of his hands and helped him prop it on the wall opposite to my bed.

"Are we done?," he wheezed, hands on his knees and gasping for air.

"That should be all," I said, inspecting the room. "Did I get to thank you for letting me live here?"

"Seven times precisely," he moaned. "And I told you it's fine every single time. You can bring everyone you want home, unless they make a mess or something like that."

I fidgeted nervously, looking anywhere but at Mike.

"Even a Program?," I asked.

Mike's jaw dropped.

"Are you serious? You plan on getting Tron out? I mean, can you even do that? He's not like us," he deadpanned.

"When we digitize we're just the same as a Program, apart from our different code," I begged. "And apart from that, I can't just leave him alone in the Grid. He is a bit shaken after being reprogrammed, losing the Program he loved and everyone he knew in there. He'll share a room with me, I'll show him around and get him used to our world, and I promise he won't kick your ass. He's also good with motorcycles, I've seen him. Please, Mike, pleasepleaseplease!"

I even pulled the puppy eyes in an attempt to convince him, knowing that he won't resist. And of course he didn't.

"Okay," he sighed, "you can bring him in, but there's only one problem."

"And what's that?"

"Just imagine my mum coming here to see me and me introducing him. 'Hi mum, I'm fine, thanks. Who's the new guy? Ah, he's Em's friend, his name's Tron. Where he's from? Well that's the awesome thing about him, he's actually a computer program from a place called the Grid.' That would be a sight to see, believe me."

He was right, and we both fell silent for a moment, considering our options. After some time, Mike let out a pleased "I got this", pulling out his phone and texting someone.

"I know a guy who can fetch us what we need," he explained, "papers and stuff like that. Tron also looks like he would easily pass as a senior year student, so you can take him to school with you; he'll get used to this place easier that way and he would also have something to do."

"You're a genius, Mike," I cried and he bowed as if he was on stage receiving applause. I kept forgetting that he was a theatre major when he wasn't fixing bikes.

"Aren't you going to get him?," he asked.

"I'll get the place fixed first," I chimed.

"I'll let you unpack then. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

I could swear that I heard him mutter something like 'the things I do for this girl' on his way out.

* * *

Later that night when I transported to the Grid safe house I found Tron laying on the floor in front of the shelves reading a book with about ten other volumes around him. I had uploaded them to give the Monitor some form of distraction while I was off Grid, putting some of my favorite titles among classic literature. I noticed the title of the book he was reading: Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451".

"Dystopian worlds, huh?," I said.

"It's educative on the way you Users think," he answered without looking up from the pages, "but I liked 'The lord of the rings' the most. I'm finished with this one too."

The Monitor closed the book and set it on the pile of other finished lectures.

"Welcome back," he purred, getting up.

"What news from the city?"

"One of Clu's generals took control of Tron city and there was some turmoil, but other than that things are silent. I know nothing of Argon and the other cities, though."

I went to the windows, looking at the city that glowed beyond the Outlands.

"I wish I could help them," Tron's voice came behind me as he joined me, "to do what I was programmed to do in the first place, but you were right. They see me as the Enforcer now."

"I told you so, but you had to see for yourself."

"Indeed," he mused. "What do we do now?"

"I've decided that I'll take you with me when I return to the User world," I informed him.

The Monitor looked dumbfounded with the news and all he could do was stare at me.

"Can you do that?" he finally said.

"Sam got Quorra out, their wedding is all over the news, and I could get Mike in and out, so it's possible."

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"It's better than leaving you to rot here with more time for brooding than you should have," I retorted. "Come on, let's go downtown."

We both grabbed our batons, but when we went out a huge grin split my face.

"I have another idea," I announced.

"I hope it won't get us derezzed," Tron growled under his breath, shooting me a suspicious look.

"It actually might," I admitted. "Let's race to the edge of town, like from here to he sewers' entrance."

The Monitor threw me a smug look and I smiled back.

"Are you so ready to lose? It may be some time since I last competed in the Race Grid, but I was the champion before the Coup."

"Bring it on, Program," I taunted, shoving him playfully.

"Let's race, User," he shot back, getting ready. "We go at three. One, two...!

I already broke into a sprint, rezzing the Lightcycle and bolting to the city with Tron behind me. He really had a skill with racing, and we sped to the city, focusing on getting to the finish first. When we approached the sewers he was parallel to my Lightcycle and I could almost feel the taunting grin behind his black mask.

"I'm not losing to a computer program," I growled, gripping the handlebars and shooting forward to the tunnel entrance with just a few centimeters in front of Tron's Lightcycle.

We both grinded to a halt and derezzed the bikes. The Monitor derezzed his mask with an incredulous look on his face.

"I want a rematch," he growled. "I almost had you owned."

"Sore loser, are you?," I beamed.

"I never lost a race," he hissed, making me chuckle.

"There's a first to everything," I told him in a matter of fact tone.

"I still want a rematch."

"You're a good racer... for a Program that old," I teased.

"Old?!," he choked, "I'm not that old! Well, I may be, but that's not the point!"

His look of disdain was too much for me and I howled with laughter before my knees gave in and I landed on the ground, tears streaming on my face and gasping for air. Tron graced with a murderous glare, making me break into another fit of hystericals and roll on the floor holding my midsection.

"How old are you, anyway?," he asked when I finally got up and wiped my cheeks, still chuckling.

"Almost nineteen," I answered straightening up.

"See?! You're just a... a..."

He searched for the right word.

"Just a kid," he finally declared.

"You'll have to live with the shame of getting beaten by a kid and a girl, Tron," I grinned, shoving him playfully and he shoved back, kicking my legs from the ground in the same move. The fall knocked the air out of my lungs with a gasp, and the next thing I know was the Monitor holding me in a headlock.

"Rematch on the way back, and I'll show you the true meaning of "sore loser"," he growled in my ear. "Or 'sore User' more like it."

Tron let me up and I motioned him to go first.

"Age before beauty," I teased.

He went first into the tunnel, grumbling something of which I caught only "old my arse", and "is going to get both of us derezzed".

* * *

"You cheated," I snapped when we pulled up our Lightcycles in front of the hideout. Tron and I had raced again on the way home, and that damn Program pulled a stunt, activating his Lightribbon and crossing my way, making me stop so I didn't slam into it head on.

"I never said anything about playing nice," the Monitor retorted looking smug. "I win. Nice job on those Guards, by the way."

We had encountered a patrol in the city and we had to fight our way through them to get back. After I finished with them I saw a glint of pride in Tron's steel blue eyes. Ever since I got him out he had insisted to train me every time I went into the Grid, ignoring my protests.

"I was good enough to stay alive before," I protested when he told me I needed training.

"Yes," he admitted, "but you Users have a lot of enemies in the Grid, not to mention your tendency to get into trouble at every step. You have to get even better."

"Tron's boot camp", as I called it, was a painful and somewhat humiliating process.

The first times the Monitor literally beat the crap out of me with implacable ease, always pushing me to my limits. Usually our sessions ended with me on the ground, gasping for air, and Tron towering above me. I progressed fast, though, and soon I wasn't the only one sore and tending to various bruises. The last two times I didn't lose even once: all Tron could get was a tie, and when the last fight ended up with my inactive Disk at his throat he decided that finally I was apt for handling any situation on the Grid.

Combat training was just a part of what the Monitor had in mind for me. Apart from sparring I had to practice the advantages my User status presented, using the environment to my advantage in a fight and even testing my imagination with encoding art pieces. One of the things I made was an extension to our training room, a combat simulations environment which could be powered by any User or Program. It took me four Grid days and nights to get it done, but when I was done even Tron looked amazed. It used the memory files on a Disk to project realistic simulations of anything and everything one could possibly imagine, and Tron put it to use in my combat training, recreating situations from his extensive experience as both System Monitor and the Rinzler.

After a total of half a cycle of grueling training I had with the Program I couldn't even recognize myself in the mirror. I carried myself with the same feline strength the Monitor had, all, if any, fat on my body had burned away, leaving only firm muscle on my now lithe frame. I now had lightning fast reflexes and a keen understanding of how the Grid worked. Mike said that even my attitude had changed. I used to be arrogant and hot-headed, always speaking whatever stupid thing went through my head, which Tron dismissed as a sign of insecurities I tried to hide. After an extremely embarrassing one-sided discussion in which the Monitor had laid down in detail all of my flaws while inspecting my Identity Disk's memory files and thousands of fights ending with a dry "you derezzed again, User" I finally managed to keep my emotions in check and become more confident in who I was and what I could do.

However, tonight was the first time Tron had actually praised me, and I felt even prouder of what I accomplished. The former System Monitor was a ruthless teacher, short on the praises but quick to put me back to my place when I rebelled. When we weren't training he was almost a different person, one with a serious dose of dry humor and a witty mind, not to mention a hot temper. I enjoyed a lot our discussions, mostly the ones about what he read while I was gone. Sometimes he raised some philosophical questions about human nature and things such as religion and spirituality that caught me unprepared, and I had to think a while before answering.

In a few words, even though none of us had declared it, we were good friends now. I knew I could trust the Monitor with my life and that he could do that with me too. It was a nice feeling to know that if you went missing or something happened to you someone would stop at nothing to get you out of trouble.

"Hey, did you glitch or something?," Tron called, breaking me out of my reverie moment. "Let's go, we don't have all the cycle to sit here daydreaming."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, don't make such a racket."

I sprinted after the Monitor, leaping onto his back with a devilish grin and making him groan.

"Are you sure you didn't overenergize?," he complained. "Come on, let me go, you're choking me."

I didn't loosen my grip on his neck and he let out a sigh, grabbing my arms and tossing me over his head. I twisted midair and landed in a crouch.

"I can't wait to show you everything," I chimed, cocking my head left.

"Oh, Users, I know that look," he rumbled.

"What look?"

"When your eyes shine like an imp's it means that you're up to something that'll get us both into the deepest of trouble," Tron deadpanned.

"You have nooo idea what's waiting for you on the other side," I warned wickedly.

The corners of his mouth shot up in a smile for a second and even if he tried to sound all serious and mature and like the Monitor he used to be I could tell that Tron was just as impatient as I was to get to our world. I mock punched his shoulder, unable to hide my growing enthusiasm.

"Come on, don't be such a stiff, it's going to be fun! No more hiding, no more running for our lives when some dumbass wants to have our heads on a serving platter..."

A true smile graced his scarred features this time and he gazed outside to the vastness of the Outlands.

"I'll miss the Grid, but some peace will be good."

"But not too peaceful, though," I warned, "or we'll get rusty. We'll be coming back quite often."

"Sounds good to me," he murmured still lost in his thoughts.

I took his hand and activated the launch sequence.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he said.

I initiated and the already familiar sensation of the transport engulfed me for a second as we transferred back to the User world. Mike was already in the basement, awaiting our arrival, and I steadied the slightly dizzy Monitor.

"Welcome to our world," Mike greeted Tron with a grin spread on his face.


	5. 5: Highschool without the musical

**I finally got the chance to post another chapter, a bit later than I hoped, but the final exams of highschool are coming so i have to study. I really want to thank the ones who reviewed, I'm glad you liked it.**

**Now to the fun stuff... Tron gets his first taste of the User world, and also gets scared out of his wits by an infamous game. I remembered how bad it scared me when I first played, so I thought I'd torture my characters the same way my friends tortured me.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

"HEY! WATCH IT WITH THOSE THINGS!"

I sighed as I methodically cut down the armor on Tron's left arm. He had come into the world wearing it and it was a pain to remove, even with the huge shears Mike provided.

"There you are, I'm done."

"Finally," the Monitor growled, peeling the black armor off and revealing his well-toned torso from underneath it. He still had his four pixels just below his collarbone imprinted on the skin, but apart from that the scar tearing from his left eye to his heart was most striking.

"Clu," he said when he noticed my stare.

"I know. Well, I'll let Mike take care of the rest," I said waving to the armor that covered his legs.

"The forever chaste Emily strikes again," Mike grumbled, making Tron chuckle and earning a death glare from me as I turned on my heels and stormed out of the room blushing like an absolute idiot. I could hear Mike tell something to the Monitor who burst into laughter, and i glared at the door.

"If that was about me, you're both dead!," I shouted and they both snickered.

Five minutes later, Mike emerged from the room chuckling.

"He's showering," he said, "and man, he's big!"

"He's a fighter after all," I reasoned.

"I wasn't talking about that," he grinned.

I frowned, not understanding and then it dawned on me what he meant. I smacked him hard in the head as he howled with laughter.

"That wasn't funny," I grunted, feeling my face ablaze.

"Yeah," he snorted, "it wasn't just funny. It was hilarious!"

I grabbed the closest object to my hand - a dictionary - and threw it, hitting him in the shoulder.

"Ow, what the hell was that for?"

"YOU FRIGGIN' IDIOT!," I shouted, hitting every inch of Mike as he cowered under my blows, "HE'S MY FRIEND AND NOTHING MORE! WE SAVED EACH OTHER'S HIDES A GAZILLION TIMES AND HE TRAINED ME ON THE GRID, AND YOU DARE MAKE SUCH JOKES?! THANKS TO YOUR STUPID WORDS, NOW I WON'T BE ABLE TO LOOK AT HIM THE SAME WAY EVER AGAIN!"

"Look at who the same way again?," came a rumbling voice from behind me and I turned only to smack my nose against Tron's collarbone. The Monitor had just got out of the shower judging by his wet hair and he wore a black t-shirt and jeans borrowed from Mike. I turned an even deeper shade of red, looking anywhere but in his eyes and bolted to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

"Did I do something?," Tron's confused voice rang, followed by another chuckle and an explanation from Mike. There was silence for a second, before I heard a shocked yelp and the sound of someone hitting the ground really hard, along with a low growl.

I slid to the ground, pressing my back against the door before burying my face in my hands. I had never thought of Tron that way before, but now I couldn't help but notice that he was good looking. Really good looking. He was lean and strong, with that coppery brown hair and steel blue eyes...

"Oh, good God," I groaned, banging my head against the door, "why me?"

Someone knocked softly, making me jump.

"Emily?," came Tron's voice muffled by the door, "Are you okay?"

"No, go away," I growled, dropping my head into my hands again.

"Come on, let me in."

"No!"

I heard him grumble something along the lines of "Users, I'm going to derezz him" before he knocked again.

"It's okay, come out," the Monitor said, "Mike's downstairs."

I sighed, getting up and finally opening the door. The said Monitor was standing in the doorway looking pissed, and I did my best to avoid his gaze.

"Whatever he says, I never thought of you that way," I started.

"I know," he said, "and that's why my 'answer' hurt a little."

"A little?"

"A lot more, actually," he chuckled as his features softened.

"So you're not mad at me?," I asked.

"Why would I be?"

I gritted my teeth in frustration.

"Because I acted like an idiot," I snapped, "and because he supposed that I... we... God, that was so embarrassing."

"That's fine," he dismissed, "don't fuss over something like that. So, where do I stay?"

I pointed at the couch without a word, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Isn't this your room?"

"Mike snores, and there's also the fact that he brings girls home," I explained. "Just don't ask about the snoring part. To sum up, we are going to share a room for the time being. You should go to sleep, Program, we'll have to get up early tomorrow."

* * *

"So, tell me again, where are we going?"

I sighed, beginning for the hundredth time the same explanation, as I drove on the alley to the school parking lot the next morning.

"It's called highschool, Tron, and we have to go attend classes. Didn't you have that on the Grid?"

"No," he replied, rummaging through his book bag for the piece of paper on which I had written his User name and some other details such as my phone number, our timetable and also a small set of rules to prevent any... unwanted accidents.

1. Don't speak about the Grid when someone can hear you.

2. Please, for the love of anything good in this world, don't show off your fighting skills.

3. If you get in trouble, CALL ME. Or Mike, if I don't pick up. He'll know what to do.

4. No war stories, no showing off, and remember, your makings are tattoos, not circuitry.

5. Please try to obey the school rules.

6. KEEP A LOW PROFILE!

"So, tell me again how you are going to introduce yourself," I ordered as I parked the car.

"My name is Tim Anderson," the Monitor recited, "I am your family friend and I moved in from... what was it?"

"Austin, Texas," I groaned. "Can you remember it?"

"Yes."

"Good," I said, let's go, Tim."

We made our way to our first class which was Chemistry, taking a table to the back of the classroom. On our way there I tripped over someone's leg, almost face planting to the floor. When Tron lifted me up I saw the evil smirk on Jean's face, followed by an innocent expression, and I hissed, hurrying to the desk right when the teacher, Mr. Finch, came to his stand.

"Alright, class, today we are going to have an experiment with sulfuric acid, so please be careful."

He handed each of us vials with substances, scolding some boys who were messing with the sink faucets.

"The instructions are on the blackboard," he announced, "so get to work!"

I mixed the substances carefully watched by a confused Monitor who seemed to have absolutely no idea what to do with the vials. He tried pouring the contents of one into the other, but I noticed what he was doing and kicked his shin under the desk making him yelp.

"Not like that," I hissed, "unless you want to blow up!"

I put my finished experiment aside and snatched the vials from his hands, mixing them the proper way when...

BOOM!

A kid in the front row had mixed the wrong vials and the whole thing blew up on him, turning him a very... crispy shade of black. Beside me Tron began snickering, before unsuccessfully trying to stifle a laugh at the poor kid's shocked face and singed nose.

"You weren't kidding," he chuckled as I glared at him.

"Of course not," I hissed, kicking him again.

He dropped the vial, smashing it on the floor which immediately began smoking.

"GAH! It's burning!," Tron shrieked, bolting up from his seat and stomping on the spilled substance.

"Crap," I hissed, yanking a recipient filled with water and pouring its contents over the spill - and Tron's sneakers.

After a good scolding from the teacher and cleaning the mess - which took us the rest of the class - we went on with the day quite uneventfully until lunch break.

Tron picked both our trays as we headed to my usual table in the corner of the cafeteria, and I pulled out my IPhone, checking for any interesting news as we ate. I was reading something about some weird guys who had robbed a bank in a small town when someone else sat at our table.

"Oh," I groaned, "you again."

The guy, Andrew, was one of the jocks who thought that girls were only good for making sandwiches and looking good while holding his hand with a puppy-eyed smile, and this one in particular had a fixation on me unlike the others who opted for avoiding me. I doubted that he could even write a text correctly, let alone have an intellect bigger than that of a chicken.

"Hey, baby, you replacing me?," he exclaimed, looking hurt.

"One," I counted on my fingers, "don't call me baby, and two, there's nothing to be replaced. I'd add more but I'm afraid that counting to three might be too hard for you."

Tron snorted, almost choking with the pizza slice he was eating as I picked at a muffin.

"Aw, baby, you're so harsh," Andrew complained, "but you know I like it rough, so maybe we hook up sometime. I promise I'm better than Pretty Boy here. What do you think?"

The Monitor's gaze hardened and I could hear a low growl rumbling in his chest. Luckily his mouth was full of pizza, and I took the opportunity to end the discussion.

"Get out of here, creep," I hissed, "before 'Pretty Boy' makes you regret it."

"Oh, come on..."

Tron's fingers dug lines in the wooden table as he pinned the jock with a murder glare.

"GUYS! Cut it out right now!," I ordered as they were still glaring at each other. "Andrew, you should get going to your friends. As in now."

"Fine," he sneered, getting up, "I'll leave you have fun with your little boyfriend here. You weren't worth it anyway."

When the guy sat down at his table Tron finally relaxed a bit and I went on with my food.

"That's not a way to treat a woman," he grumbled, glancing at the jock.

"I'm used to it," I dismissed, "but I agree with that."

"There were some creeps like that on the G... where I come from," he corrected quickly, "and when one picked on Yori..."

"I can imagine your reaction was explosive," I snorted.

"What do you expect with the job I had?"

"Seems right," I agreed.

* * *

The last class was PE, and just think about it: as if one student with incredible reflexes wasn't enough, now we had two, one being a protector in his day.

"Aw, heck no," I muttered as we entered the gym - a bit late actually, because Tron had been plunged in a conversation about Kant's writings with our Philosophy teacher.

He was a step behind me, and I could feel his curious look inspecting everything around us as if he was assessing all exits and scanning for threats. Old habits die hard, I guess.

"What happened?" he asked softly, so no one would hear.

"We have dodge ball today," I explained.

"What's dodge...whatever?"

"Well, it's kinda what we do in the Grid, with balls instead of disks."

"And that's bad how? We are going to be really good at it," he replied confusedly.

"That's what worries me, because we're so good and you in particular are still a bit jumpy after all those cycles as Rinzler. We can hurt someone by accident."

"I can control it," he reassured as I shot him a weary look.

"We'll see."

When the class ended we were both laughing hard as we walked out of the gym.

"I never expected it to be so fun," the Monitor chuckled, "the teacher's face was priceless when he saw that stunt you pulled at the end."

After a particularly alert game of dodge ball in which Tron and I competed on the same team - the result was predictable, of course - we had to run a mile of obstacles on the track around the football field. Obviously the Monitor took it as a race and obviously again he won, bolting by the other students like a rocket and getting first to the finish line. I finished second and we started mock fighting over the result. The teacher had been dumbfounded by our acrobatics and I could swear he almost had a heart attack every time I did a move impossible for someone without our training. Everything ended with the victorious Program yanking me from the ground and tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while I shrieked and banged on his back, carrying me to the locker rooms.

"Let me down," I ordered, smacking his back again.

"Nope," came the answer.

"Please?"

"Nope, I won't."

I groaned, trying to find a way to get out of his grip. Maybe tickling would work...

The Monitor shrieked when I tickled both his sides before breaking into a laughing fit and nearly dropping me head first on the floor. I never was the one to retreat first, so I continued, ignoring his yelps and shrieks of protest.

"Are you going to let me down now, or do I have to continue?," I smirked.

"N-no, s-stop," he gasped, still laughing, "I'll put you down, j-just stop!"

I didn't see his impish grin as he dropped me on the floor, but I knew it was there.

* * *

Tron POV

The evening was warm and peaceful, something I hadn't experienced in the Grid. There was always something to do, and I prized any moment of peace I could get before Flynn or Anon came running in with some problem for me to take care of.

"AAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

The ear-piercing shriek followed by a long stream of heartfelt swears made me jump, almost falling off the couch, as Emily bolted in the room and hid under the covers of the bed in less than a second, shaking badly. My hand instinctively reached between my shoulder blades, but I remembered I had no Disks here.

"Is it gone?," the User whimpered peeking from the covers, eyes wide with fear.

"What in the Grid has happened?"

"I was playing Slenderman and Mike thought it was funny to prank me," she explained, "as if there weren't enough jump scares in the game."

I went downstairs, smacking Mike's head on my way to the basement and I saw the opening screen of that game.

"Collect the pages," I muttered, sitting down in front of the computer, "it can't be that bad..."

* * *

Emily POV

"AAAAAAAARGH!"

A blood-chilling, girlish scream sounded from the basement, followed by Mike's booming laughter. I hurried downstairs to the basement in time to see Tron on the ground, backing off from the computer, and Mike laughing his arse off.

"What the hell was that?!," the Monitor squealed, glaring at the screen.

"See, told you it was scary," I chuckled, "but I never thought you'd get so scared playing it."

"Scared? Who said I'm scared?," Tron protested, "It just startled me, that's all."

"Yeah, and I'm a Gridbug," I retorted.

"You do tend to act like one sometimes."

"As in?"

"As in you can annoy the crap out of people," he replied, grinning wickedly.

"WHAT?!"

The Monitor got to his feet and peeled out of the room with me giving chase.

"IF I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, TRON," I shrieked, "YOU ARE ONE DEREZZED PROGRAM!"


	6. 6: Phobia pt I

**This chapter is split into two, because I can't just torture one main character. They have to get an equal share of terror:). Also, this is set on the Grid, around a week later from the last one. **

**I am seriously considering making Tron go through the terror of prom after Phobia 2, so if I don't get any really negative reviews on it I'm going to get to that too. I have some ideas for it and for some big action on the Grid later on, but since my prom is coming up at the end of May and as I post this my feet hurt from searching for shoes... I guess I have to write it before it doesn't let me sleep at night.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

"Come on, Emily, move those feet faster!"

Tron's staff hit the air where I was a second before I ducked, and I almost couldn't stop it. After a couple of moves my staff was on the floor and I joined it. The Monitor frowned when he pulled me back to my feet.

"You aren't that easy to defeat," he said as I dusted myself off, "your mind was anywhere but at what you were doing. What's bugging you?"

I was indeed thinking about something else. Ever since we got back to the Grid I had a strange feeling of being watched that followed me around the hideout. Even the code was a bit awry, and I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off and that there was someone or something here that shouldn't have been.

"It's just... I don't know what it is, but something's wrong with the place," I explained, "it's like someone is watching us."

Tron's frown deepened and he looked suspiciously around us.

"I thought I had been just my imagination," he growled, "but you're right, there is something..."

I saw a small form skittering around the far end of the room and gasped, pointing to where it had disappeared.

"There was something running," I hissed, "right by the rack."

"I can't see anything..."

The lights suddenly went out, our circuits' glow only reaching a couple of feet around us. Tron and I took out our Disks, rezzing our masks too, and I could see a red shimmer in one of the corners for a second before it flickered out.

"Back to back," Tron ordered and I obeyed, looking out for any threat.

"What the hell..." I started, already feeling like I was in one of Mike's horror movies.

"Shh, listen," the Monitor whispered.

A skittering sound reached my ears, too faint to notice before. The red glow appeared again and I saw a small, spider-like thing crawling in the light on four skinny legs that looked like an insect's. I gave a shriek, grabbing Tron's arm as he squashed the thing.

"What was that," I whimpered, still clinging to him in fear, "it looked like a huge spider."

"Gridbug," the Monitor deadpanned, "they're the worst pests on the Grid, causing glitches and such. And the worst thing about them is..."

Tron's words faded as he pointed to a sea of red lights to the door as the skittering sound grew louder.

"...there's never only one," he finished and I could hear fear coloring his voice. "Don't move, or they'll attack."

"Can they hurt us?"

"To put it as Yori did long ago," he said grimly, "if those gridbugs get us, we've had it. A swarm of that size can derezz us."

"Oh, shit," I squealed, tightening my grip on the Monitor's arm, right when the gridbugs swarmed toward us like a mass of metallic spiders.

I shrieked again, kneeling on the ground and rezzing a wall of white light around us upon which the gridbugs smashed like a wave.

"Will this hold up?," Tron growled, flinching as a gridbug hit the wall right in front of his eyes.

"Do Lightribbons shatter?" I retorted nervously.

"They do eventually."

"Then we have to think fast," I said, pulling up a screen, "the whole place is full of them."

"Run a debug," the Monitor suggested, keeping an eye on the pests as I worked on the code.

I checked the damaged strands of code, mending some and searching for the one I needed as the gridbugs relentlessly assaulted the wall.

"Emily, hurry," Tron hissed. "They're getting in!"

"I'm working on it!"

"Em..."

"Come here and help me," I cried, "I can't find the damn thing."

He complied, doing the same I was, but we were still unsuccessful.

"Why did you have to make this so complicated," he growled, wincing when a bug hit the barrier with a loud bang, "we're running out of time."

The barrier cracked in some places, leading me to the conclusion that we had minutes, if not seconds before it shattered.

"Scrap this," I said, running a trace. "Aha, there you are."

"Hurry, Em, they're breaking in," Tron warned.

I activated the code strand, frowning when I saw the loading bar. If the debug didn't work fast enough we were toast.

"Come on, come on, come on," I begged as the cracks spread.

The wall collapsed with the sound of shattering glass, and the gridbugs swarmed toward us. I cried in absolute terror, squeezing my eyes shut as Tron's arms wrapped around me to protect me before a whoosh and a gust of wind came out of nowhere, stopping the creepy skittering.

"We've made it," the Monitor said with disbelief, looking around us when the lights went back on, "the debug worked."

My knees buckled and I slumped to the floor, shaking badly. I felt like I couldn't breathe so I clawed at my chest, gasping for breath and whimpering weakly. Tron kneeled to my level, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me.

"Breathe, User," he ordered with a hint of worry in his steely gaze, "we're alive, we made it."

"Can't," I rasped, the world spinning around me, "panic... attack..."

Tron stopped, slapping me hard and I finally managed to get air in my lungs, still dizzy.

"I hate bugs," I hissed, "all those legs and that disgusting skittering... yuck!"

"So you're afraid of something," the Monitor mused, "I never thought you had a phobia this strong."

"Everyone has one, Tron" I replied dryly, "what's yours?"

The Monitor frowned, folding his arms across his chest.

"You won't tell me, will you," I sighed.

I got up, pulling out the screens on which we monitored the Grid. A large red mass was inching towards Tron city, and I heard Tron growl behind me.

"More gridbugs?," I asked.

"Even worse," the Monitor hissed. "Can we get visual?"

I popped the images on the screen, trying to get them clear enough to distinguish what it was.

"Wait a second, aren't those... Programs?"

"Someone took over Clu's army of rectified Sentries," Tron said, pointing to a figure clad in black with a few splotches of red light. "Get closer, I want to see his face."

I zoomed in and we could see the Program's armor and blank mask. A pixel design identical to the one on Tron's armor glowed on the stranger's chest.

"Since you are here with me and Beck's derezzed long ago," I started, "who is that? Another Renegade?"

"Not Renegade, User. That's the Stranger." Tron tapped the screen, freezing the image. "He is one of the four Programs or Users I have ever trained."

"There's Anon, Beck, me and..." I tried to remember the fourth.

"Cyrus," Tron growled. "He thought that the only way to save the Grid was by destroying it, and he almost succeeded. I thought that Beck and I had derezzed him, but it seems I was wrong."

"And he's marching to Tron City," I pointed, "how long before he reaches it?"

"Barely long enough for us to get there in time," Tron deadpanned, "we'll have to make a run for it."

I derezzed the screens with a touch, turning to face the Monitor.

"Gridbugs and armies, huh? What a day."

"Seems like the usual for our kind," he shrugged. "Let's move."

* * *

"Ain't that nasty," I remarked from behind my mask when I leaped from a ledge high enough for me to see the advancing army. "There must be thousands of Sentries marching here."

"If we can hold Cyrus back long enough we might have a chance of stopping them," Tron said darkly.

"Didn't you train him? I mean, he can't be better than you or even me for that matter."

"He beat both Beck and I and almost derezzed us," the Monitor said flatly. "He's completely mad, and a formidable warrior."

"Ouch..."

We both fell silent and I considered our options, playing with my Disk absently and tugging at the code. A memory file played of the first time I came to the Grid, when I got dragged into the Games and I fought Tron as the Rinzler. Tron stiffened when he saw his reprogrammed image holding a Disk at my throat.

"I have an idea," I started, "and you won't like it at all. Give me your Disks."

He handed me the Disks with a questioning look I ignored as I pulled the code and zoomed on a remaining area of amber corruption glowing among the white of the rest.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting the Rinzler back to the Grid," I answered, making Tron's eyes go wide with shock and pain.

"Are you crazy," he snarled, "I can't do that! You can't possibly ask me to..."

"You won't," I cut him out, "I will."

The Monitor turned even paler and I could see his hands shaking when he understood what I had in mind.

"That's viral code, Emily, you have no clue what it'll do to you."

"I have studied it, remember? I need only some aspects of the Enforcer, enough to make that glitch soil his pants. Hold these for me," I said, handing him the Disks.

I took mine, pulling out the code before splitting it into two identical sequences. Another Identity Disk rezzed under my hands and I got it, merging it to the original one to make it look like it was just one. Just like Tron's twin Disks they separated by twisting them apart, and I turned my attention back to the code. I copied the corrupted sequence and left it floating in the air while I worked on containing what parts I didn't need showing. Tron watched the delicate process wearily, shooting me a concerned look from time to time.

"It's done," I finally sighed, shrinking the sequence and grabbing it gently with two fingertips.

"Are you sure you want to do this?," Tron sighed sadly, "You have no idea what I went through while under that repurposing, and how hard it was for me to shake it off. I still get nightmares about all those cycles as Rinzler and the things I had done."

"I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

I paused, looking straight into his steel blue eyes. The Monitor looked really sad and worried, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

"I can do this, Tron," I reassured him, "it won't turn me into the Rinzler or something similar like it did with you. But in the case something does go wrong, please kick some sense back to me."

I carefully inserted the strand into my code and docked the Disks, launching the sync protocols. A sudden wave of pain hit me, making me scream and fall to the ground. Tron's frantic voice reached me just when another flash of agony came.

"Emily, are you alright?"

"Yes," I hissed through my gritted teeth, "I'm fine. It's just the viral code, nothing to worry about."

The pain intensified and it took me all my will not to cry as the viral strand burned into my systems.

Reprogramming commencing.

Oh, no, you don't. I sank deep into myself, putting up barriers against the virus.

* * *

Tron POV

With another blood-chilling wail the User went limp, staring blankly at the dark sky above.

"Emily," I started, touching her shoulder with a shaky hand. "Wake up."

I shook her, too scared to think about what might had happened. I refused to believe that she might have died.

"Please, User, for the love of the Grid, wake up. Please..."

No response.

I could already hear Cyrus shouting orders to his soldiers and the alarmed cries of the Programs who had spotted the army. I stood up and hauled Emily's unconscious body into my arms before running as fast as I could to the relative safety of center sector of the town.

About halfway there I heard a weak moan and Emily stirred in my arms.

"Ow, that didn't go as expected," she groaned, "but it could be worse. Put me down."

I set the User back to her feet and she ran her hands over her armor, making it change under her touch. It was still black, but with much less circuitry, everything glowing an eerie orange. I noticed that even her eyes had a faint amber ring around the usual sapphire.

"Wow," she chirped, "this isn't bad, I kinda like it."

* * *

Emily POV

I checked my new attire with a weird curiosity when out of nowhere something swept my legs from the ground and I found myself staring into very, very pissed and scared steel blue eyes.

"Ow, what was that for?!"

"I thought you had derezzed, idiot," the Monitor growled, his circuits flickering orange for a second.

That only happened when he was ticked beyond belief, and he also didn't usually swear - I don't think I'll ever forget the Slenderman prank and how the Monitor had described the game afterwards- so I guessed that I had scared him half to derezzing with my stunt.

"Um, sorry?" I said sheepishly.

"Don't ever do that again," Tron hissed, pulling me up, "or I derezz you myself. You almost gave me a heart attack back there! You could have derezzed, or worse, you could have gotten reprogrammed into a monster like the one Clu made out of me. You've had a taste of what someone with our training and who got repurposed can do, just imagine another Rinzler on the streets, with no master to pull the strings behind, and also an User! There would have been nothing left of who you are now apart from your fighting skills and everything else would be replaced by hate and anger and ruthlessness. You could have derezzed me and everyone in the Grid without a second thought if someone ordered you to do so. Does that sound nice to you, thousands of cycles of terror and murders?"

Tron was shouting by the time he finished his rant, and I knew he was half scared to death, the other half angry with me risking my life willingly with the same thing that destroyed his long ago.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I know it was hard for you watching me do it..."

"You have no idea..."

"... but it was for a reason," I finished. "How am I in a fight?"

"Quick, determined and you're not the kind who derezzez with pleasure," Tron answered, frowning.

"And inexperienced in real combat against an opponent such as Cyrus," I completed. "What I did was taking your memories as Rinzler, all the combat experience you had as the Enforcer, and copy it into my code. However, it was viral, and I might or might not have had to fight the Rinzler so he wouldn't take over."

"And you succeeded?"

"I'm not trying to derezz you right now, am I," I shot back.

Tron was more than shocked, looking at me as if I had grown horns, his jaw hanging open.

"You contained Rinzler in what, five minutes?," he gasped, amazed and curious at the same time.

"It was much weaker than what Clu put in your Disks, but yes, I did."

The Monitor shut his mouth with a snap, shaking his head in awe.

"I struggle with it for a thousand cycles and she shrugs it off in five minutes," he said with a short laugh. "So, what's your plan?"

"We'll make it up on our way there, but the main idea is that I meet Cyrus and scare the living crap out of him, giving you enough time to strike him down."

"And how in the Grid are you going to accomplish that?"

I grinned, rezzing my mask and striding away.

"I'm a User," I smirked, "I'll improvise."

* * *

Tron POV

While the User did her thing with Cyrus I went on organizing the city's defenses. Weirdly enough, nobody questioned me when I shouted orders to the Programs, putting them where I saw fit to block the advancing army and protect Tron city from the invasion.

"...And get those crates to the barricade, before joining the others at the gate," I commanded to a male Program who seemed to be the leader of the makeshift defense force.

"Yes, Renegade," he saluted, hurrying to do what I told him.

The Program, Zorn was his designation, approached me as I was ushering some scared Programs to their homes, asking if I wanted to help with defending the city. He believed I was the Renegade and put me in charge of organizing the scattered groups.

Another Program came running in the square and motioned Zorn to come.

"There's a Program fighting Cyrus by the main gates," the scout panted, "she looks like the Rinzler."

Zorn frowned before turning to the young Program.

"She? Wasn't Rinzler male?"

"Yes, but this one's clearly female, Sir," the Program wheezed.

"Is it one of ours, Renegade?," Zorn asked.

"Yes, she is," I answered.

"She'd better be," the scout added, "or she's going to derezz us all, the way she moves."

"You might know her, Program," I told Zorn, "I have a feeling you've met before."

"Look, that's what I was talking about," the young scout cried, "that's the Program."

Emily was running as if all the demons of hell were chasing her, with her mask still on but cracked in several places. The User leaped over the barricade, landing in a low crouch before jogging in our direction. When she came to where we were I could notice a faint limp and that she was clutching her right side. Zorn and the others yanked out their Disks preventively, glancing suspiciously at the amber circuits on Emily's armor.

"What happened?" I demanded, "did you beat Cyrus?"

"Do I look like I did?," the User retorted, flinching when she set her weight on the wounded leg, "that piece-of-scrap-code is too damn strong."

"I told you," I growled.

"I did manage to wound him, though," she added, "almost severed his Disk arm. He has to use his left now, and he's not as good with it."

Emily noticed my tense companions and she waved her hand.

"Stand down, Zorn, I'm on your side," she said, "I thought I might find you here."

"Identify," the Program warned, his Disk ready to strike and the User sighed, derezzing her mask and letting her circuits fade to their usual white.

"What a way to greet old friends," she chastised.

"Enyo?"

"The one and only," she laughed before turning to me. "Nice job on the defenses, Renegade, but I doubt they'll even slow Cyrus down."

"I did what I could," I replied dryly, "what did you find out?"

"First," the User counted, raising a gloved finger, "he's ugly."

Zorn and the scout stifled a laugh and even I had to admit that she had a point. Cyrus' face and body were covered with circuitry, making him the only one other than the ISOs to have marks on his skin.

"Second, he has got upgrades: speed, stamina, and he's impossibly strong."

Emily let out a low snarl, looking down at the slash that went from her hip all the way to her armpit.

"That glitch tossed me like I was a toy," she spat, "but I have noticed where those came from while he was busy mocking my... What did he tell me? Ah, my 'masquerade suit'."

"Condense it, Enyo," I ordered, "get to the point."

"The point is he fought with one Disk but he had another one docked. I think all his upgrades are in the docked one, and if we manage to break or steal it we have a chance to defeat Cyrus."

"Watch out," someone shouted from the rooftops, "they have tanks!"

A bomb hit the barricade, blowing it up before another went over our heads, smashing into the blocks. The explosion destabilized the code, sending some pieces hurling in the air and derezzing a couple of Programs while leaving dozens more injured.

"Renegade, take the girl and move," Zorn cried, "you are our only hope of defeating this madman. We'll hold them back."

I grabbed the User's arm but she wouldn't budge, staring at the place where the bomb hit.

"We have to go," I said, trying to pull her from where she stood frozen.

"The explosion destabilized the code," Emily snapped, "if I don't do something the building will collapse and derezz them all."

She wriggled out of my grasp and sprinted to the block with me on her heels. Emily dodged a stray red-lit Disk and I managed to catch her.

"We have no time," I snarled, "let's go!"

Emily looked up right when I heard a low rumble and I followed her gaze.

"Too late to run," the User whispered as the building crashed on top of us.

A stray piece of rubble smashed into me, nearly missing Emily and with a flash of pain I succumbed to darkness.


	7. 7: Phobia pt II

**God, I'm sooo sorry for that mess with the first try of posting this chapter. I have no idea what the hell happened, it seemed to go all fine up, but in my defense I wasn't working on my laptop (I have absolutely no idea how to use a Macbook, call me a noob, but I like more the Windows ones.) I"ll make up for this mess, I promise!:)**

**Anyway, without further babble and excuses, here you are, part II of Phobia.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah, blah, blah.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Emily POV

Even I didn't know what I wanted to carry out when I sprinted to the already doomed building, but when it collapsed I instinctively knew what I should do. A huge rock hit Tron, knocking him down and I rezzed a barrier to shield us from getting squashed by the rest of the debris before collapsing to my knees as the ground shook under my feet.

The falling block smashed on the barrier with a tremendous roar but it held up, forming a pocket large enough for me to stand up. The only light came from the circuits on our armors, and I crawled to where Tron was. The Monitor's limp body was trapped under the rubble and a large piece was covering his legs. When I tried to lift it wouldn't budge so I took Tron's left arm and, after what felt like hours of struggle, I managed to pull him from under the boulder and lay him down on a clean place to inspect his wounds. The Monitor only had scrapes and a few shallow cuts, but I suspected that he hit his head hard when he fell since he was still unconscious. His mask was still on and I remembered that mine had a manual switch on the nape of my neck. I gently searched for the switch and finally my fingers met a bump in his neck armor which I pressed, derezzing the mask. He was ghostly pale, with the scar standing out on his white skin, and a trickle of blood streaked his forehead. When I looked at my hand my fingers were wet and glistening red and a small pool of blood was forming on the ground, meaning that he was seriously wounded.

I lifted Tron so I could access his Disks and began frantically working on the damaged code, aware that I had to do it quickly or the Monitor would derezz from the blood loss. I docked his Disks and after another long moment in which I bit my nails to the flesh praying that I didn't mess something up Tron flinched, his eyes fluttering open and he got up, wobbling on his feet. I tackled the confused Monitor, squeezing him in a desperate embrace and making him moan with pain.

"I thought I lost you," I half sobbed with relief, clawing at his back to make sure he's alive. "I should have listened to you..."

"You should have," he retorted, "but you never do. Where are we?"

"Under the fallen block," I replied, still holding him in a tight embrace.

A strangled groan escaped the Monitor's throat and he staggered, making me release my grip and shoot him a questioning look.

"I don't like this," he moaned, turning even paler, "can't we get out?"

"There's a huge pile of rubble above us, and the only thing that keeps us alive is the barrier I put up," I explained.

Immediately I realized that wasn't the smartest thing that got out of my mouth when Tron simply slumped to the ground, huddling into a corner and holding his head.

"Are you... okay, Tron?," I asked, beginning to get more and more concerned.

"I hate small spaces," he wheezed, dropping his head on his knees so his next words came out muffled, "Clu used to keep me locked in a... I guess you can call it a box of some sorts when I misbehaved."

"Only now he tells me," I groaned.

As if to scare the Monitor more, the barrier suddenly shrank and I had to bend my back so I wouldn't hit my head on the top of it. Tron whimpered pitifully, holding his knees to his chest and I crawled to his side, putting a comforting arm over his shoulder before rezzing a map of what was underneath us.

"Please tell me we can get out of here," Tron hissed, shaking badly and burying his face in my hair.

I could feel his short gasping breaths on my neck as I searched for a way to get out. The barrier shrank even more and the Monitor twitched.

"Hurry, Emily," he moaned desperately, huddling closer to me.

I finally found a sewage pipe right underneath us, but I doubted that it was large enough in diameter for us to stand up, especially since Tron was quite tall. Most likely we would have to crawl to get to the mains.

"I found a way out," I soothed, squeezing his shoulder, "there's a sewer underneath us."

"Good," Tron wheezed.

"It's quite narrow," I warned, "We'll have to crawl. Can you make it?"

"It can't be worse than this place," he retorted, and I outstretched my hand, rezzing a descending tunnel underneath my palm.

We both dragged ourselves to the opening, beginning our descent right when the barrier caved in, sending tons of rubble down. I closed the tunnel entrance and continued to go down until we reached the pipe. It was indeed narrow but other than another groan Tron said nothing, crawling behind me silently.

"How much longer do we have?," the Monitor finally asked with a tense voice.

"About a mile to the mains, and then another to the closest exit," I replied after a quick query to the code.

"I don't think I can do it," he groaned, "it's too long, and it's so narrow..."

"Yes, you can," I cut him out.

"But..."

"If I survived the gridbugs, you can make it through this," I deadpanned, "We have a city to save, remember? You're not a normal Program, you're a System Monitor, and your task is defending the Grid if I remember correctly. You can't give up now, when everything is about to fall apart."

"You're right," he finally sighed after a moment of silence, "but let's hurry."

"Just follow me," I reassured him.

After what felt like an eternity in the cramped pipe I could see a faint light ahead. All my muscles were protesting from the unnatural position, but it was soon washed away by a strange feeling of numbness that smothered me. Through the fog of exhaustion that clouded my brain I remembered the gash I got while fighting Cyrus but it felt so far away it didn't even hurt anymore.

Suddenly I felt nothing but air under my hands and stumbled out of the pipe, barely managing to extend my arms before crashing face down on the floor with a weak moan. I laid there, unable to move as I heard Tron get out too. After another long moment strong but gentle hands rolled me facing up and I stared blankly in the Monitor's steel blue eyes. I saw his lips moving and his panicked words finally cut through the haze in my mind.

"...Talk to me, Emily," he begged, "please, say something..."

Tron's voice sounded like it came from a broken radio and I realized he must have talked to me for some time before I could hear him.

"Cyrus," I croaked, "cut... me... had to... get out..."

The Monitor checked the wound and his eyes widened when be saw the damage. I supposed it was really bad, but weirdly enough it didn't hurt at all.

"Oh, Users, it doesn't even bleed anymore," he gasped, his hands ghosting over the gash.

When his fingers touched its edge it flared with such incredible pain I gave a hoarse scream and my vision darkened. The agony quickly subsided to the numbness, and I felt like I was floating. I was dying, I realized, and I didn't care as long as it didn't hurt anymore.

"...don't derezz, User, not you too, please, not like Yori did..."

The voice was begging and broken, pulling me out of the darkness that engulfed me and back to the agony of life. Something tugged and pulled at my being and I cried until my throat was raw, but I didn't give in to the appealing void of death. Now that I was so close to the edge it scared me, making me cling to life with all my strength. I still had things to do here, things I wanted, people I cared for...

After another eternity the searing pain stopped and my vision cleared a bit. Tron had just docked my Disks back, and I could see tears glistening on his grim face as he put me back down. I weakly put a hand over his, squeezing his fingers reassuringly, unable to do any more than that. I was so tired I closed my eyes, and the last thing I remembered was the feeling of being carried and four white pixels on a black armored chest.

I woke up on a soft surface which I identified as a bed in a dark room I coudn't recognize, and ran a scan on my body. Someone had expertly healed the slash made by Cyrus' Disk and all the other cuts and smaller wounds, and I winced remembering how close I had been to dying. If it wasn't for the Monitor, I wouldn't have breathed anymore. And speaking of Tron, he was slumped beside the bed, sleeping with his arms under his head on the mattress as if he had watched over me but was too tired to stay awake, which was probably the case after all we've been through. He stirred in his sleep, mumbling something and I sat up, taking the Monitor's arm and carefully pulling him into the bed. He didn't even wake up, so with a small rub on his back I got out, smiling as the sleeping Program began to purr.

I found my way to what had been a basement someday, but now it looked like a mix of a kitchen, living room, command center and med bay. I found Zorn among the other Programs, working on someone's Disk and went to him, ignoring the expressions of awe that surrounded me.

"Where are we," I demanded, "What's this place?"

"This is one of the old hideouts since Clu's reign," Zorn answered, still focusing on healing the Program, "these tunnels go all the way to Argon, Arija and the other cities on the Grid."

He put off the code, sighing sadly.

"This is everything I can do," he said, "He will have to live without a hand."

"Give me his Disk," I said, "I can fix him."

Zorn raised an eyebrow but handed me the Disk, and I quickly and expertly removed the damaged code and mended the main one.

"Here, try it now."

I docked and synchronized the Disk and Zorn looked in awe at the growing limb. He suddenly yanked me up and dragged me to a silent corner of a hallway where no one could hear us.

"When I found Tron - yes, I know who he is - carrying your unconscious body and brought you both here, I healed what your friend couldn't," he explained, "but it took me a while because your code is enormously complex. And that thing over there, only an User has such knowledge of encoding in order to heal a severed hand. What are you, Enyo?"

"This can wait, Zorn," I snapped, "what about Cyrus?"

"He took control of the city," the Program sighed, "but the Programs aren't at all happy about it. I think we need only to openly challenge Cyrus and they'll rebell easily enough."

"How long has it been since the collapsed building?"

"Two milicycles, out of which you were out cold for one and a half."

"I'll have to let Tron rest too," I said, "he's in no condition to fight right now, after all that..."

A blood-freezing howl interrupted me and both Zorn and I sprinted to the room where I woke up. I didn't let the Program get in, though, raising a hand to bar his way.

"Let me, I know what happened," I told him and he complied, heading back to the living room as I opened the door.

Tron was thrashing wildly in his sleep, his features contorted into a mask of grief and anger as he growled something I couldn't understand.

"Hey, wake up," I started, bending over to see if he's okay, "it's just a dream..."

"NOOOO!," he cried and his eyes snapped open, his circuits flashing amber as he sent a punch crashing towards my face.

I dodged the hit and grabbed his flailing wrists, pinning them on either side of his head. The crazed Monitor growled, rolling out of my grip and sent us both tumbling to the floor. I finally managed to restrain him, having to use all my strength to keep him down.

"Cut it out, Tron," I ordered in my best drill sergeant voice, but he didn't stop thrashing, "ow, that friggin' hurt, moron!"

The Monitor managed to elbow me in the cheek, right under my left eye, getting me to back off a little. That would bruise later and it hurt but with a snarl matching his I lunged, pinning Tron's arms on the ground and knocking out the air in his lungs.

"Gotcha," I growled, pressing my weight on top of his body, "now stay still, damn it!"

The circuits on his armor flickered orange for another second before they faded to their usual light blue and Tron finally stopped struggling to get me off. I managed to hold him tightly, straddling his chest so he couldn't budge and he blinked confusedly as if he had just snapped out of the nightmare.

"What happened?," he asked in a scared voice.

"I heard you shouting and when I tried to wake you up you attacked me," I explained as his eyes widened. "My guess is that Rinzler made a guest appearance."

"I-I don't know," he stuttered, "I'm sorry I hit you."

"It's fine," I dismissed, as someone knocked on the door.

"Is everything okay there?," Zorn asked.

"Yeah," I shouted, "I got this."

I let the shaken Monitor get up and watched him stumble and collapse on the bed, holding his head.

"What was it?," I asked quietly, "The nightmare I mean."

He didn't answer, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs and I sat beside him.

"It's okay," I soothed, "you can tell me."

He looked at me with tears in his eyes and I rubbed his back gently.

"I was the Rinzler again," he said, "and I was chasing Yori in Gallium city. I caught her and while she was begging me to spare her life I derezzed her. Then she turned into you, and... I watched myself take the final blow, unable to stop myself... I killed you both."

Tron dropped his head into his hands and I honestly had no idea what to say to that.

"Do you have this kind of... nightmares often?

"Yes," he replied, "usually they're flashbacks of the time under Clu's repurposing, but after what happened earlier it turned to this."

The Monitor sighed, looking at the ceiling in an attempt to calm down.

"I was too focused on getting out of that blasted tunnel," he started in a low voice, "so I forgot about that slash you got earlier. The only thing in my head was putting another step forward. I thought that trek through the pipes was unnerving; however, when I saw you on the ground unmoving and close to derezzing I was downright terrified. It was too much like when Yori died, and again I could do nothing to help. Luckily you Users are a strong lot, a normal Program wouldn't have survived what you've been through. I don't know, Em, if I couldn't save you it meant that I failed my directive again. First Flynn, now another User... What good is a System Monitor who can't protect his Users?"

A faint ripple in the code made us both jump reaching for our Disks and I touched the wall, querying the code to see what caused it.

"Someone's coming through the tunnels," I whispered. "It's Cyrus."

"Is the street entrance safe?"

"Yes, it looks barred from the outside."

Tron got up, ushering me to the door as he rezzed back his mask.

"Go tell Zorn," he ordered, "send them all to the surface exit and encode the door so nobody can follow them."

I sprinted to the main room, leaping over a sleeping Program on the floor.

"We've been discovered," I snarled, "get to the other exit and don't even think about staying behind to help. Move!"

The Programs quickly obeyed my order, hurrying to the exit and after I ushered everyone out I encoded the doorway, making it fade into the wall as if it never existed. Tron joined me and we headed out into the tunnels with our Disks ready.

"Can't wait to get my revenge on that ugly bastard," I hissed.

"Get in line," Tron retorted, "I trained him and he became this. He owes me two almost derezzed apprentices."

And speaking of the wolf, Cyrus appeared in all his circuit-face glory with four Sentinels behind him.

"Well, well, well," he sneered, "my old teacher and the rookie. Isn't this a merry meeting?"

"Yeah," I growled, "let's hug and talk of the good ol' times."

"Shut it, Program," Cyrus snapped, "you are just another Renegade reboot who has no idea what a real fight means."

"That's it, he's cubes," I hissed, beginning to circle the Stranger with graceful steps.

I didn't even manage to land a blow because Tron launched himself at his former apprentice, hacking and slashing ferociously, but every move he made was countered by the Stranger. The Sentinels closed in on us and I derezzed them easily enough. Right when I was removing my Disk from the last one's midsection I heard a groan and a thud and I saw Tron on the ground and Cyrus poised to take the final blow.

"So this is how it ends, Tron," he mused, raising his Disk over his head.

"Oh no, you don't, circuit face," I snarled, launching myself in the air over Cyrus' and kicking the glitch hard before landing in a crouch in front of the fallen Monitor. The former Renegade's Disk slashed the air where I had been but I had already rolled out of the way, and Cyrus began chasing me. I ducked under the Disk, avoided every blow and slash by a narrow chance, but I knew I had to keep him occupied. Tron joined me soon and we began our onslaught anew, but to no result. Cyrus was too strong and fast.

I remembered the other Disk on the Stranger's back, and suddenly I got that kind of idea for which Tron would kick my ass for a long time if I applied it. I left the Monitor to fight Cyrus and I pretended to be hit, collapsing to the floor. Tron let out a desperate roar and charged his former apprentice with ferocity, only to be pushed back and to find himself with Cyrus' Disk at his throat.

"Now be brave, for this might hurt a little," the former Renegade sneered, oblivious to my presence behind him.

I undocked his Disk, holding it between my hands and it disintegrated to red pixels on the floor.

"Dodge this," I growled, leaping on his back.

I grabbed a handful of the Program's hair, yanking his head back and I cut his throat in a swift move. He disintegrated and I hurried to help Tron up.

"Was that a line from that 'Matrix' movie we watched two nights ago?," he frowned as I pulled him to his feet.

"We are in a computer program," I shrugged, "and it worked well with the situation."

"You are insane, Emily," Tron muttered, "but maybe it's a User trait. Let's go announce the others of what happened here or they'll believe we're dead."

I glanced at the clock above the desk after Tron and I de-digitized in my world: 1:46 AM. The Monitor yawned, stretching like a huge cat before crashing on the couch while I sat at the computers, logging the Grid entry and tweaking some parameters for the laser. However, soon enough I was too tired to do anything more and I fell asleep with my head on the desk. I felt someone prying me away from the computers before setting me in my bed, from which I didn't wake up for the next 48 hours. I guess that's what a couple of near-death experiences do to you.


	8. 8: Show-off

**It took me a long time to decide whether to post this one or not, but I guess I will since you guys liked the high school part. This took me for ever to write and post because I kept tweaking and fussing over it, and there are still some parts I'm not entirely happy with, but c'est la vie, I'll get better on the next ones.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Emily POV

Lately I had begun loathing Art Class with all my being, since the teacher made us all sing. It wasn't that I couldn't do it - I actually loved anything music related -, but since the first time I hummed a tune Mrs. Loris made me sing every time she caught me in class. It would have been acceptable, if not for the upcoming school show.

"Class, I have made the final list for the show," the teacher chimed when she got to her stand, waving a piece of paper. "The ones who are going to show their music talent are..."

"Please, for the love of everything nice, don't read my name," I grumbled.

"...Emily Grant, Jane Spencer, Leah Marcus..."

I sighed, dropping my head on the desk with a loud thud. Why on Earth does that blockheaded teacher insist to put me on a stage?

"Is anything wrong, Miss Grant?," Mrs. Loris asked.

"Yes, ma'am, I told you before, I don't sing," I told her in an exasperated tone.

"But you are so good," she retorted, "I have a special duet in mind for you."

"With who, if I may ask?"

"We will have tryouts, but I'm sure we'll find a good male voice to accompany you."

Great, singing with some random dude. Just marvelous.

I knew that Tron would tell me to quit fussing and do what I have to, but the Program was in an advanced Drawing class, since he had a considerable talent with it. What he called a 'random doodle' was a depiction of Tron city so realistic it looked like a picture on the back of his Algebra notebook so I signed him up for the drawing class against his protests.

"What song will I perform?," I asked, silently praying for anything but a love one.

"You have a solo one you get to pick, and the female voice part of 'Broken strings'."

I jumped out of my seat outraged, and I swear that if looks could kill my Music teacher would have been dead a gazillion times.

"I'm not singing that," I shouted.

"Yes you are," the teacher said calmly.

"Make me," I spat, grabbing my book bag.

"If you don't, Miss Grant, I won't pass you this semester and I will expel you."

I dropped back on the chair, gawking like an idiot at the teacher.

"I can and will do it," she said, "so you'd better behave."

The hell I will.

"Tryouts will be next Monday at 10, so you have to practice by then. I will take care of posting the notices. Oh, and you should find some options for the other song."

"I already have something in mind," I grumbled, acknowledging my defeat.

"Good," the teacher chimed, "I know you will be excellent. Now, let's review the list for the rest of you..."

When the class ended I stormed out of the room, heading directly to my locker. I kicked the door hard, earning a sore toe, and opened it, tossing my bag inside. Someone bolted beside me, and I saw a very scared Tron hide behind a corner.

"I'm not here," he hissed, flattening against the wall and peeking around cautiously.

His shocked face was so funny I stifled a laugh before looking for what startled the Monitor.

"Are they gone?," he asked, peeking from around the corner.

"I don't really want to know what was chasing you if it scared you like that," I snickered, "The last time you had that face was when you played Slender."

"Only one time and she never lets it go," the Program grumbled.

"What happened?"

"I got out of the Drawing class and some girls cornered me," he explained.

I burst into loud laughter while the Monitor glared at me.

"That's one thing I never expected to hear from you," I cackled, "The great Tron running away scared out of his wits from some teenage girls. Priceless, man, priceless!"

"What's that 'prom' thing, anyway?," he asked, shooting me another murderous glare that would have given me a run for my money.

I began cackling again, tears streaming from my eyes.

"I don't get what's so funny," Tron grunted, rolling his eyes.

"Did they ask you to prom?," I wheezed, holding my midsection and still snickering.

"Yes," he frowned.

"And what did you tell them?"

"That I really have to be somewhere and I'll tell them later. Can you please explain me now what they wanted?"

"Prom is a school dance which celebrates the end of high school; our school holds it about two months from now," I explained, "and tradition is that all students come with dates."

"So why me?"

"Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

"Why, is my hair off?"

"No, silly pants," I sighed, "all the girls in school are drooling over, and I quote: 'the hunk in senior year with those dreamy blue eyes'."

"'Hunk'?"

"It basically means you're exceptionally good looking and almost every female wants you as a date for prom night."

Tron face-palmed with a groan, banging his head against the wall.

"What do I do?"

"You either find a date, or you tell them you don't come," I reasoned.

"Who will you go with?," he asked.

"I probably won't go at all," I admitted, "I'm not on anyone's date list."

"Why, don't you like dancing?"

"I'm okay with it," I grumbled, "It's singing that worries me more."

Tron shot me a questioning look and I sighed, remembering what the teacher threatened me.

"You know I take Music as an art optional," I explained, "and there's an upcoming show in which I'm supposed to sing a duet, and I really don't want to do it. It's a love song and the teacher is running tryouts for the guy part of it, and she threatened that she'll expel me if I don't do it."

"It isn't so bad," the Program mused, "why are you so horrified by the thought of it?"

"I get enough negative attention without going on a stage in front of the entire school, Tron, if I do this it'll get only worse."

"Oh, come on," he chastised, "you almost died twice last week while fighting a maniac in order to save a world and you worry about this? You really have to get your priorities sorted out."

"Honestly, I'd rather take down Cyrus again than do this," I hissed, earning a smack in the head from the Monitor.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it," I surrendered, "but I promise I'll hate every moment of it."

"Maybe you won't," Tron said mysteriously before taking off to his next class and leaving me confused in the middle of the corridor.

* * *

Monday: tryouts day.

I peeked from behind the curtains of the theatre stage at the small crowd of guys who were waiting for the tryouts to begin and the larger number of students who came to see how it went and I could already feel my knees shaking like jelly. I spotted a familiar mop of reddish hair in the crowd and Tron waved cheerily at me from the front row.

"Okay, students," Mrs. Loris announced, "I will call those of you in my class first, followed by the other candidates."

I got on the stage and for the next half hour I listened to the guys struggling to meet the teacher's expectation. What some of them thought when they signed up, I didn't know, since most of them couldn't hit a tune in a brass bucket, and by the time the Music class guys ended I felt like my ears were bleeding.

"Now for the other students," the teacher called, "Is Mr. Tim Anderson in here?"

No way. This wasn't happening. Tron got up from his seat and gracefully came on stage beside me as I stared in pure disbelief.

"You and I have to talk after this," I hissed between my teeth as the Monitor winked playfully.

When he opened his mouth I swear that the entire public, me included, forgot to breathe. The Program's warm baritone filled the theatre as he sang one of my favorite rock ballads, giving me chills when he perfectly hit the high notes of the final bridge. I never heard Tron sing before but his voice was absolutely amazing and he easily put to shame all of the wannabe artists who came to the tryouts. When he finished the crowd erupted into cheers and applause as both Mrs. Loris and I gawked with disbelief and awe combined. The teacher snapped her jaw shut and handed Tron a piece of paper with the lyrics of the song we had to play for the show.

"The ones highlighted are yours," she said, turning on the negative and motioning us to sing.

I had the first lines and I really gave it my best try. I had always been a soprano and when it mixed with Tron's low baritone it gave such a hauntingly beautiful combination I could swear that by the time we reached the last chorus half the girls in the public were sniffing and wiping away tears.

"I believe we have found someone for the male part," the teacher stammered when we finished, breaking the silence that followed. "The show's next week on Thursday, so you'd better not catch a cold by then. Class dismissed."

"I had no idea you could sing," I told Tron as we got out of the theatre.

The Monitor smiled, ruffling my hair and making me yelp and elbow his ribs hard.

"When I wasn't on duty I used to sing," he explained, "I always liked it and it seems that even if I'm a bit rusty I still can do it."

"Rusty?," I scoffed, shooting him an incredulous glare, "That was amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it," he said, smiling.

"You saved me, man; I guess I owe you one."

"It's fine, really..." he dismissed, before noticing something and bolting behind an open classroom door.

I saw a group of girls giggling and looking at us in the middle of the hallway, and I got an idea.

"I think I know how to rid you of those fangirls," I told Tron, who shrank behind me as the girls spotted him and began whispering among each other even more.

I went to the girls and was nearly tackled by the Morrison twins and their friends, feeling like I plunged into a perfumed, giggling ocean of teenage stereotypes.

"Oh my gosh, you were stunning at the tryouts," one of them -Amy or Hazel, I could never tell them apart- squealed, "I ruined my mascara but it was soo worth it!"

"Thank you," I said, "how are the preparations for prom?"

"We got our dresses, but only Mary has a date," Jenna Ferris informed me, "what about you? Are you going with someone?"

"Yes, I am."

Another giggling fit began, and I face-palmed mentally. That was precisely the reason I never hung out with those girls, they were way too much into romantic movies and love stories for my taste, not to mention what they wore. Jenna had her 'pink mania' day today, everything she wore being, well, pink, form her sneakers to the floppy bow in her hair. Only looking at her gave me diabetes from all the sweetness she faked. Just ugh.

"What about your friend Tim," the other twin asked, shooting a hopeful glance at the terrified Monitor who had wisely kept his distance, "does he have a date?"

I considered torturing him a little more just for the fun of it but I quickly scrapped the thought when I saw his pleading gaze, almost begging me to get him rid of his unwanted fans.

"He's taken, girls," I announced, making all the sugary enthusiasm die.

God, they looked like kicked puppies, and I could swear that one of them, a curly haired brunette, was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, we had no idea," Jenna said with a pout, "I wonder who's the lucky girl he picked..."

Initiation done, commence phase two and place final blow.

"Well," I began, playing with my braided hair in a way that was not exactly characteristic for me, "he's new in this school and he doesn't really know many people, more of the shy type, you know, so he asked me. It's not like we're dating or something, we're just friends, but I couldn't let him go alone as he first wanted."

The looks on the girls' faces varied from resignation to envy to pure hatred, but I was sure none of them would pester Tron anymore.

"Oh," one of the twins gasped, "you're so lucky. Well, have fun together then."

"Thanks," I chimed, "see you around!"

I turned on my heels and went back to the Monitor, casually grabbing his arm and heading to the exit.

"Thanks," he mouthed as we went out and headed to the parking lot.

"Anytime," I replied.

* * *

The night before the show I couldn't get a moment of sleep because I was so nervous about how it was going to turn out. When Tron woke up he found me in the kitchen pouring myself the fourth mug of coffee and looking like I haven't slept in ages.

"Nervous, huh?," he asked while I downed the warm coffee.

"You can tell?"

The Monitor frowned, inspecting me with a concerned look.

"I have seen you looking better when you had gotten messed up in fights," he deadpanned, snatching the mug from my hands.

"Hey, I was drinking that," I protested when he drained the contents in the sink.

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

The sheepish grin on my face and the huge black circles under my eyes must have spoken for me since Tron's frown deepened and he let out a low growl.

"You look like you're going to pass out any moment now, Emily," he groaned, "why on the Grid are you so afraid of this?"

"It may be the fact that in junior year of high school I used to get my head dunked in the toilets every recess," I retorted, "or that when I last played on a stage some wiseguy thought it was fun to dump paint on me. I still get into trouble with the bully gang, and this kind of things only makes them go at me worse."

I stifled a huge yawn, dropping my head on the table and wishing I could go to sleep more than everything in the world.

"If we get through this, we get pizza and stay in the whole day," I groaned, making Tron chuckle.

"You have to get your prom dress, and I don't think I can borrow anything from Mike," he said, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"I guess you're right, let's go" I sighed, getting up and heading to the door.

"Em, maybe you have to get changed."

"Why?"

The Monitor's eyes glinted with humor and he tossed me my favorite pair of jeans.

"You're still wearing pajama bottoms," he snickered.

Fifteen minutes before the show, while all the others were practicing, I was sitting on the steps to the balcony rubbing my crushed toes and cursing whatever gave me the dumb idea to wear 5 inch heels. I really doubted my ability to think sometimes, usually when I had the tendency to make a bad day worse, but this was too much already. It wasn't like I didn't fuss in skyscraper high stilettos at every party I went, but now they were almost unbearable to walk in.

"Are you ready for the show?," Tron asked as he sat beside me on the steps.

"If I could manage to walk in these blasted shoes it'd be so much better," I groaned, rubbing a sore spot behind my neck.

"May I remind you that I told you not to take those," the Monitor chastised, "and that you answered something around the lines of 'if I can do all those crazy acrobatics...'"

"'...I can pull off high heels'," I finished, "Yeah, I know, it wasn't my brightest-Crayola in-the-pack moment."

Tron shot me the 'you don't say' look and I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Don't look at me as if I'm going to break like a china doll dropped from the top floor," I hissed, elbowing his ribs, "I'm just tired and this show thing is not my favorite in the world."

"You'll do just fine," he encouraged, "it's just ten minutes on the stage."

"Says the one terrified by a group of hormone-fueled teenage girls," I growled.

"You have to admit they're quite persistent," he retorted. "I've seen gridbug swarms give up more easily."

I shuddered, remembering the nasty insect-like pests that almost killed us before the Cyrus episode. And I thought that our spiders were scary.

The first girl went on stage, and Tron helped me to my feet, steadying me as we went backstage. I tripped over a cable and crashed with a shocked yelp, scraping my hands on the floor. I propped myself on an elbow, tapping my nails on the hardwood floor in annoyance.

"Can this day get even worse?," I complained as I got up just to get shoved out of the way by some running guys. This time Tron managed to catch me before I took another nasty fall and I shot a venomous glare at the boys.

"Come on, it's our turn," he said, ushering me on stage.

I sometimes got what I called a 'blank moment', in which my brain seemed to shut down completely. I remembered a girl introducing us, then going to the microphone stands and then I guess I sang my solo pretty well judging by the applause. When we played the other song everyone was silent even after it finished, but I couldn't remember a thing I did. The crowd roared with applause and cheers which reached my ears muffled and distorted, and I felt Tron take my hand before raising it in the air.

I followed the Program behind the stage like I was sleepwalking and he forced me to sit down on a crate.

"You can breathe now, Em," he rumbled, "you're going to pass out any second."

"Did we do it?," I croaked, "it all was a blur for me..."

"It was our best performance since we first started practicing," the Monitor reassured, "stay here, I'll get you some water."

He disappeared in some of the rooms backstage and I finally relaxed. It was good. Nothing wrong happened.

The Program returned with a bottle of water and I downed it in one gulp.

"Can we go home now?," I asked as the world began blurring at the edges.

"The teacher wants us to stay..."

I took off my shoes and got up, only managing to take three steps before my knees buckled and I landed on the floor.

"Whoa, I wasn't expecting that," I groaned, shaking my head, "too many falls for one day."

Tron picked me up without a word, carrying me bridal-style to the exit of the theatre.

"What happened to her," Mrs. Loris asked, hurrying to us.

"I guess the stress of the performance was too much for her," he replied.

"I'm fine," I said in a weak voice, but nobody listened.

"Get your friend home, Mr. Anderson," the teacher told Tron, "and make sure she rests. You were both great today."

The Program nodded and carried me to the car before depositing me on the passenger seat.

"Stay here," he ordered, "I'll get our things and we're off."

* * *

Tron POV

I went back to the school theatre to pick up Em's bag and the rest of the stuff we had, wondering why the User had been so stressed about this show. It wasn't a logical thing for someone who got into all sorts of deadly trouble on a daily basis to be so afraid of going on a stage, not to mention that Emily was quite a people person. I saw her on the Grid when she announced our victory over the Stranger and she was one of those charismatic people who could make a crowd go alive.

I got the answer to my questions not long after I came into the theatre, when I saw a blonde girl waiting casually against a wall.

"Your things are here," she purred, tossing her hair back, "here, let me help you."

She waved to the small room where we left our things and I went in as she followed. Suddenly I heard the door close and froze when the girl -Jane, if I remembered correctly- embraced me and started to... well, kiss me I guess.

"You're too nice to hang out with Circuit Face," she whispered in my ear, "maybe we should get to know each other better..."

I was still frozen with shock when the door slammed opened and a pair of hands snatched Jane, pulling her off me. Emily was standing a few feet from us, still pale as a sheet and glaring daggers at the blonde.

"Get your filthy hands off him," she snarled as I could clearly see a faint amber ring forming around the blue irises that burned with hatred.

A faint rumbling purr filled the room as the User heaved the girl to her feet and slammed her against the wall with a loud thud. The sound was oddly familiar and I remembered what Emily did with that bit of Clu's reprogramming the last time we went on the Grid. It was obvious that the viral code had affected her, since this sickness episode was just one of many others that occurred after our return, but neither of us had expected such a manifestation of the virus Clu used to transform me into Rinzler to come up.

"Wasn't the last one you took from me enough?," she growled, "I'm growing tired of your petty bullying and of everything you do to discredit me. You are nothing but a dumb blonde with issues who feels secure only when she hurts someone else, not to mention you think you're oh, so popular, oh, so beautiful and that everyone should worship the very ground you stepped on."

The girl struggled against Emily's iron grip to no avail.

"Let... me... go...bitch," Jane coughed, "or you'll suffer the consequences."

"No, you will," the User hissed, tightening her grip on the other girl's throat and making her choke.

I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. The User was almost mad with anger, and I knew that in her rage she might seriously injure the other girl. It was similar to how I had been after Yori died, but I didn't let myself remember that horrible night, seeing the other girl's face turn a shade of purple as the User tightened her fingers on her throat. I went to their side, setting a hand on Em's shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

"Emily, let her go."

The User didn't seem to hear me, so I insisted.

"Come on," I pleaded, "let her go."

Again no answer.

"EMILY!"

"What," she snapped, turning her burning gaze to me.

"You're killing her, let her go."

The amber tinged eyes bore into mine, making me flinch, but finally she released the grip on Jane's neck as if it burned her hand, stepping back.

"He's right," the User hissed with disgust, "you're not worth it."

"You are so dead, Circuit Face," Jane wheezed, rubbing her neck as she got up, "Go cry to your Mommy like the coward you are. Oups, I forgot, you have no Mommy to go to."

That did it. Emily lunged before I could grab her and in a short time the blonde was on the floor unconscious, with the User towering above her, breathing heavily. Someone gasped behind us and I saw some kids from our class watching us in the doorway with shock. Em turned on her heels and made her way out without another word and I followed as the others parted to let us go. It seemed that the rage moment had left her speechless, since she was unusually silent for half of the ride to the warehouse. The User let out a sigh, tapping her nails on the wheel absently as we waited at a traffic light.

"I was waiting for a long time to do that," she said smugly, startling me after the long silence, "that bimbo was on my nerves since first year of high school. Sorry 'bout that."

I took a mental note not to get this particular User angry on the Grid, or she'd derezz an entire city.


	9. 9: Of love and other forms of torture

**Aaand more on the same day! I have another two chapters written, and then I am into uncharted territory, as in I have no idea whatsoever what I'll have my characters do next. Meanwhile, it seems like someone has problems in the love chapter of their life, and doesn't handle failure well.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Tron POV

The User was acting weird of late, I thought during a particularly boring literature class. Since she had taught some respect to that cheerleader she was quite elusive, always on her phone and more often than not she was distracted and airy. I glanced at her fingers moving quickly on the phone keyboard and the smile that lit her face and I mentally shrugged; she was a teenager after all, and I doubted that even Beck would have been much different if the Coup didn't take place.

I winced as I remembered Beck. The kid was one of the bravest, most reckless and kindhearted Programs I had ever met. His death was one of the hardest things for me to remember, since I had been the one to end him while under Clu's repurposing. Suffice to say, Beck was one of the most frequent visitors of my nightmares, only beaten by the Coup and Yori's demise.

I glanced down at the sketch that graced the page under the few notes I took before I got too bored and began drawing. It was Anon trying to get Quorra to stay in one place instead of running into Users know what trouble. The Monitor was an almost exact copy of Flynn and one of the best I ever trained. However, he always got the 'nasty stuff you don't want to get Tron to do', as he once complained to Flynn after the User assigned him to keep an eye on Quorra. One cycle, right after he rezzed in the system, he came dragging his feet to where Flynn and I stood overlooking Tron city, looking exhausted and annoyed.

"I get that you're the senior System Monitor, Tron," he ranted, "but why me? And why Quorra of all Programs? That ISO is going to get me derezzed one day! She's the most curious and most prone to get in trouble of them all! Not to mention the pranks..."

Flynn snickered, shooting me a glance as I shrugged. I knew the ISO well and she gave me a hard time keeping her out of trouble before Anon came to the Grid, so I knew all too well why the Program was complaining.

"What did she do this time, man?"

"She redecorated both mine and Clu's apartments," Anon deadpanned, "and she made them pink! And she even left a note saying 'I hope you like my redecorating skills! Love, Q.'"

"Did she lock the code?"

"Yes," the junior Monitor grumbled, "Clu hasn't seen it yet, but when he does... I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of what he'll tell her."

A gruesome shout made us all jump and we saw Clu stomping furiously towards us really pissed, holding a hot pink data pad in his hands.

"Well now he saw it," Flynn said dryly as his Admin reached us, looking like he'll pop any second.

"OOOOH, THAT ISO," he snarled, "If I get my hands on her..."

"Hey, man," Flynn warned, "don't mess with my Zen thing."

"It's not you who I'm going to mess with," Clu growled, "but that damn ISO! She's a pest, Flynn, she should be locked away! Last time the gridbug prank and now... this!"

Flynn put a hand on the angry Admin's shoulder as I caught a movement with the corner of my eye and smiled. Clu would have a hard time catching Quorra.

"Come on," Flynn said, "let's find Quorra and she'll make everything the way it was..."

After Flynn and his Programs went just far enough I looked up at the ledge on which said ISO stood, grinning silently as the User tried to calm Clu down and shook my head. I guess some things never changed.

The bell ringing announced the end of the last class, pulling me out of my reverie, and to my surprise Emily didn't bolt out of the chair like she usually did. Actually, the User seemed to be embarrassed as she picked up her stuff slowly.

"Is there a problem if..." she started, fidgeting nervously, "um... I have to see someone after class, do you mind heading home alone?"

"It's fine, I guess," I answered, "who takes the car?"

"You do," she said.

"Okay, see you home, take care."

"Bye," Emily chirped, bolting out of the classroom with a huge smile painted on her lips.

Well that was weird.

* * *

Later that afternoon I finally accepted to compete against Mike in a video game marathon, seeing as he had begged me to play since I got to the User world. Unfortunately for him he had no idea that I had been the undefeated champion in the Gaming Grid for a really long time even before the Coup when he picked a car racing game so he was in for a nasty surprise.

"Ha," I snapped, waving my controller, "you lose again. Any last words, User?"

The said User elbowed me and I smacked his head with the controller before turning to the game again and winning the race with Mike's car far behind me.

"I can't believe it," he scoffed, "it's like you work with the game."

"You should remember where I come from," I reasoned, "want another chance to get your rear end handed to you?"

"Watch it, Program, this time I might win," Mike warned.

"If you win, I swear I'm drinking all those beer things in your fridge in five minutes," I snickered. "But if you lose, you get to clean up for me for the next two weeks."

"There's a lot of beer," he noticed, "Can you do it?"

I rolled my eyes, barking a short laugh.

"We had something similar to your alcohol in the Grid," I explained, "when you have too much of it you get over energized. It's basically the same thing with getting drunk."

Oh, Users, that party at Zuse's club. Flynn dragged me, Anon and Clu to it under the pretext of 'I hate to see you two stressed, man, at least Anon's having fun trying to get the ISO out of trouble'. Logically Clu didn't drink at first, but Quorra decided it was time for another prank and spiked mine and Anon's drinks heavily, making us both over energize and act like silly idiots all night long. I couldn't remember half of the party, but the next day we discovered that the one who couldn't hold his liquor was Clu, who was sick for an entire milicycle after Quorra managed to slip him spiked drinks too.

"Well," I grinned mischievously, "deal or no deal?"

"I'm in," the User retorted, "I want to see you drunk."

"Wouldn't you love to see that," I growled playfully, resetting the race.

Five minutes later Mike lost again and I clapped his back.

"Go get those beers," I beamed, "and get me one too."

"Here, I got them," another voice said, and we turned to see Emily in the doorway, grinning at us and holding a six-pack in her hand.

"Boys will always be boys," she said, sitting on the armrest and handing us each a bottle, "I didn't know you drink, Tron."

"I'm not always acting like a humorless System Monitor," I retorted, sipping the beer, "I can have fun too."

"That I know," Em replied, "but it's funny seeing you act like a User and beating Mike at video games."

"How was your day?"

"Yeah," Mike added, "where were you?"

The User turned a bright shade of red, averting her sapphire gaze.

"I was at... um, school," she mumbled, "I had to do some extra work for Physics class."

"You never do the extras, Em," Mike said, "Who did you hang out with?"

"Come again?!"

Mike did not relent even when Emily shot him a murder glare, her face a blazing scarlet color.

"Come on, it's obvious," he snickered, "who's the lucky guy?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Emily declared, getting up and storming out of the room.

Mike chuckled and I shot him a questioning look.

"What was all that about?"

"She doesn't usually go on dates," he explained, "but when she does she's more secretive about it than a CIA agent. Didn't you notice her texting like crazy lately?"

"Yes, I did," I answered, "but I had no idea who she talked with."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"She won't tell us if that's what you mean."

"Oh, I know," Mike said dismissively, "but I know her passcode."

He pointed to Em's phone which she forgot on the table and I laughed, picking up the device and handing it to Mike. He messed with it for a brief moment, opening the message inbox and reading the latest texts before giving it to me.

"Who's Liam," I asked, reading the call ID.

"He's in your year in high school, and he was Em's boyfriend in freshman year. He was also with that cheerleader Em beat up, but I think he broke up with her after she tried to snog the hell out of you after the show."

"They have a date tonight," I remarked, showing Mike the message.

"Oooh, this is blackmail material," he chucked as he scrolled down," look, he even calls her 'baby'. Screenshot time!"

He managed to send the images to his phone before Emily appeared out of nowhere, snatching her phone out of Mike's hand.

"YOU WERE READING MY TEXTS?!," she shrieked, "Those are private!"

"You were so cute," he cooed, "he even calls you 'baby'! Way to go, Em!"

I stifled a laugh, turning it in a cough as the User glared at me and her friend.

"You are both so...UGH!," she snapped, stomping her foot on the floor before bolting upstairs.

I heard the door of her room slam shut and Mike shot me a meaningful look before we both erupted in loud peals of laughter.

* * *

Two weeks later I was in the shop, helping Mike fix a motorcycle he was working on for some time. Emily still avoided the subject of her new boyfriend like crazy, giving Mike the occasion to make fun of her every time she snuck out to meet with Liam and make what he called 'goo-goo eyes and cuddle like puppies'. She was out on a date tonight, since she said something about Liam taking her to an expensive restaurant and a movie.

My phone rang and I picked up after cleaning the engine oil on my hands.

"Come pick me up," Emily growled, sounding really pissed.

I was a bit confused; it usually took a lot of coaxing to make her cut a date short.

"Wasn't Liam supposed to take you home?"

"Oh, for God's sake," she snapped, "just come already, I'm at the mall cinema."

She hung up, and Mike raised an eyebrow.

"What did she want?," he asked from beside the motorbike.

"She wants me to go pick her up," I answered, "and I could tell that she was pissed about something."

I looked at my grease stained t-shirt and shrugged, heading upstairs to change.

"I won't be long," I shouted, grabbing the keys to the motorcycle Mike gave me and towing out to the street.

It was a short ride to the mall and Emily was already waiting for me in the parking lot.

"Just don't ask," she snarled, getting on behind me and wrapping her arms around my chest for support as I got out of the parking lot.

I stopped a couple of streets from the warehouse and she got off, dropping on the sidewalk.

"That hypocritical piece of scrap," she spat before I got to ask her what happened, "he was still chatting with Jane all this time!"

"How did you find out," I asked, sitting beside her.

"He got a call while we were having dinner," she explained, "but he ignored it. When I asked who it was he said it was a friend of his, but I saw him text during the movies and I could clearly see it was her."

Emily raised her hands with an exasperated sigh before dropping them, glaring at the starry sky.

"He swore that he didn't talk to her anymore, but all the time he was doing it behind my back," she ranted, "That dumb bimbo was the reason we first broke up, since she had a crush on him, and now this?!

The User shivered and I could see goosebumps forming on her bare hands, so I took off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"It's okay, you didn't know," I told her, "but it doesn't make it easier for you."

"I know," she said, tears glistening in her eyes, "but why me, Tron, why me? Am I such a nasty person nobody wants to get close to me?"

"No you're not," I replied, "why do you say that?"

"Ever since I got to high school nobody seems to like me," she hissed, "everyone is avoiding me just because I'm not the kind to go cheerleading and dating the popular guys and I prefer to stick to my computers."

"There's nothing wrong with that," I said, "Why do you let them make you think there's something off with being smart?"

"Because it's hard being the computer geek with no friends," she howled, "I hate them so much..."

Em's words trailed into a sob and I put a hand over her shoulders, pulling her close and letting her get it all out. Her tears wet my shirt and she gripped it hard as she wept.

"Am I doing something wrong?," she hiccuped, "Maybe it's all my fault, maybe I'm the weirdo they say I am, and that's why all of this is happening to me..."

I pulled her away for a second, forcing her to meet my gaze.

"Emily Grant, you're one of the best people I ever met since I was created," I started slowly, "be it here or on the Grid. You're brave and noble and kind and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise. Do you think any of those pathetic pricks could have done a fraction of what you did? You saved me, stood your ground even when everything seemed hopeless, and you're brave enough to stand up for the people you care for."

"Yes, but..."

"No buts," I cut her off, "you're a wonderful person and you shouldn't be afraid to show it."

"If I am what you say I am," she whimpered, tears streaming on her cheeks, "then why doesn't anybody like me?"

"Maybe they're just idiots who don't deserve you," I deadpanned, making her give a weak chuckle, "that boy included."

"Maybe you're right," she admitted, "but it doesn't change the way they see me as a weirdo."

"You're not weird, you're just different," I corrected, "and there's nothing wrong with that."

"What do you know about being different from the others?"

"I'm a computer program who got repurposed by a maniac and ended up killing hundreds," I deadpanned, "I can't get more different than that."

Emily said nothing to that, putting her head on my shoulder as I still held her.

"Your nightmares have subsided a bit," she whispered.

"Yeah, but they're still bad," I sighed.

"I hear you wake up in the middle of the night," she said softly, guessing my unease, "but I know that you don't want to talk about it."

"Maybe I will finally put Rinzler to good use," I growled, "When I get my hands on that boyfriend of yours he'll regret the day he was born into this world."

"Ex-boyfriend," she mumbled, "and I seriously consider giving you a hand to do it."

"Get in line," I chuckled, "Mike might want his shot at it as well."

The User gave a short laugh, burying her face against my collarbone with a heartbreaking sigh.

"Thanks, Tron," she whispered, "you have no idea how much this means for me."

"That's what friends are for," I told her, setting my chin on her hair and humming softly.

"Is it the song you played at the auditions?," she whimpered.

"Mm-hmm," I purred, still humming.

"It's one of my favorites," Em said, "and you did a really good impression of Hetfield back then. Maybe we'll go see them when they concert here."

"I'd love to," I told her helping her up. "Ready to go home? I told Mike we won't be long."

"I don't know..."

"We'll order pizza and make one of your 'Lord of the rings' marathons," I tempted and Emily's head snapped up.

"The extended version and make that pizza an extra spicy Diavola and I'm in," she said with a lopsided smile.

"You've got it," I grinned.

"You do know how to cheer someone up," the User mused, getting on the motorcycle behind me.

"I owe you big time after what you did for me," I replied.

"That's what friends do for each other," she said mirroring what I told her earlier as I revved the engine.

Later that night when we finally went to sleep I heard her silently get out of bed and sneak to the basement, but I didn't follow; I knew she went to the Grid and that she'd get mad if I even asked what she did there, so I supposed it was fine as long as she didn't get killed by accident. It was a better idea than strangling someone to death in the User world, anyway.


	10. 10: Unexpected visitors

**I got this idea flashing in my head and it was too good to put away, so here's chapter 10:). Em gets to meet some most unexpected visitors who make some nasty memories resurface for Tron.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Emily POV

I tiptoed over the thin thread I set in the doorway, checking the trap for any flaws carefully as not to wake Mike. Everything was neatly in its place so I snuck out of the room, grabbing the remote and onlining the camera before I hid behind the door, waiting for the right moment to strike.

I finally pressed the button on the remote, chuckling as I waited for the big moment and...

BANG!

I hadn't heard Tron jog up the stairs and he stormed into Mike's bedroom, tripping over the almost invisible wire. The Program gave a yelp, crashing face-down on the floor with a loud thud as he activated the rest of the trap. A bucket of cold water toppled over, soaking the Monitor as a loud nuclear strike alarm roared from Mike's audio system, waking him up to the sight of Tron scrambling to his feet from a huge puddle of water on the floor.

"EMILY!," the Program roared, removing dripping hair from his eyes while pinning me with a fiery gaze that made me shrink.

"Yikes," I squeaked, sprinting down the hallway with Tron on my heels.

I leaped over the bottom steps of the staircase without breaking stride, but the ticked Monitor noticed the other trap a second too late, slipping on the banana peel I put there earlier and tumbling over to the couch where he stopped, not before he hit his head on the coffee table.

His shocked face was so hilarious I howled with laughter as he propped himself up on an elbow, rubbing his head where it hit the table. Tron winced when he pressed on a sore spot and I nearly toppled over, gasping for air.

"I set this up for Mike," I cackled, "but you were so much funnier. Oh my God, this was soo worth it!"

The Monitor dragged himself up with a low growl and he shot me a burning glare I knew he reserved for when I was in for an ass kicking.

"Hey, it was just a joke," I laughed nervously, backing away from the ticked Program.

I felt the smooth metal of the door to the garage and opened it... forgetting that there was a step. I found nothing but air under my feet and lost my balance, falling flat on my back with a shocked yell. It was my turn to glare at Tron as he laughed.

"Payback's a glitch," he wheezed, "Users, you should see your face!"

"Guys," Mike shouted, "Mum just called and she said that she has to leave my little brother with us for the weekend since she and Dad have to go to Canada, so we really have to clean this up! They'll be here in a couple of hours."

I looked around at the mess we've made as I got to my feet, muttering a heartfelt curse. This was not going to end well.

"How old is Mike's brother?," Tron asked.

"He's nine and he's spoiled rotten," I deadpanned, "and he's incredibly fast for a kid his age. Let's clean this up."

A couple of hours later the three of us managed to put an appearance of order to the warehouse we lived in. I had locked the basement securely earlier, putting the keys away so Danny wouldn't find them, and I was wiping the dust from the kitchen cupboards when I heard Mike greet his mother. I went out and saw Mrs. Spencer hugging her eldest son before she came to me, a sad look on her face.

"I'm so sorry for your mother, my dear," she said, hugging me too. "It must be hard for you being alone."

"I'm fine now," I told her, "thanks to Mike; he was the biggest sweetheart ever."

My friend winked as his mom's gaze fixed on Tron, who looked really out of place with a stack of dirty plates in his arms on his way to the kitchen, much like a rabbit caught in the headlights at night. She took in his scared face and his six-foot-tall frame, frowning a bit and the Monitor cowered under the inspecting look.

"And who might this young man be, Mike?," Mrs. Spencer asked, and I could notice both the guys freeze for a split second.

"He's... well... uh... he's Em's boyfriend," Mike said quickly with a short apologetic glance, "He also helps me with the shop; he's a mechanic as well."

Tron and I exchanged an embarrassed look behind Mrs. Spencer's back and I could already feel the tip of my ears turning hot when the Program greeted Mike's mom.

"I'm Tim Anderson," he rumbled, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The woman was a foot shorter than Tron but as she eyed him suspiciously the Program shrank a bit, making me bite back a laugh.

"I hope you are a gentleman, Tim," she warned, "Emily here has been through a lot lately."

"Y-yes, of course," he stammered, struggling not to blow this up, "I wouldn't even think of hurting her in any way."

Yeah, if you didn't count a lot of bruises, scrapes, and sore spots he gave me in training it was pretty accurate, but Mike's mom didn't need to know that.

"I really hope you're right, Tim," she said, and Tron nodded, almost sighing with relief when the woman turned her attention to her eldest son.

"Dad and I have to go to that conference in Vancouver," she told him, "so I'll leave Danny with you."

"Couldn't you have left him at Auntie Mia's?"

"She's sick, Mike, and I can't take him with us. It's just a weekend."

"Mom, I'm a grown-up, I can't just stay babysitting!"

I relieved Tron of the dishes and he followed me into the kitchen as the Spencers kept bickering in the other room.

"Sorry 'bout that," I muttered, "Mike's mom can be a bit... straightforward sometimes."

"I noticed," Tron grumbled, opening the fridge, "and I think we should hide these really well unless we want our heads on a platter."

He held up a can of beer before picking up the rest of them and depositing them in the highest cupboard as I washed the dishes.

"Guys, come meet Danny," Mike called.

The kid was small for his age, with the same mop of hazel hair and green eyes his older brother had, but unlike the kind look in Mike's his looked a bit too calculated and even a little mean. I had met Danny before and I knew that his mom spoiled him like crazy, and his sometimes borderline evil pranks had earned him a well-deserved nickname of 'the pint-sized spawn of Satan' from me the last time he stayed with Mike.

"Mooom," he whined, gripping onto his mother, "I don't wanna stay with Mikey, he won't let me play WOW and he's mean."

"You have to, Danny-dear," she cooed, "Mommy has to go to Canada with daddy."

"But I don't want to!"

"The feeling is mutual," I muttered as the kid was still clinging to Mrs. Spencer's leg.

The woman pried her youngest son away from her, handing him to Mike. Danny's teeth bit into his brother's hand making him hiss in pain as his mother pecked the kid and waved goodbye to us. The sound of the car engine went away down the street and the kid began howling and screaming bloody murder for his mother as both Tron and I covered our ears.

"MOOOOOOM! I DON'T WANNA! COME BAAAAACK!"

"Please make him stop, for the love of God, my ears are bleeding," I complained as Danny kept screaming and Mike tried to calm him down.

"NOOOOOO!"

"Mike, give him my laptop," I ordered, shouting to cover the wailing brat, "I have a lot of online games installed, just make him shut the hell up!"

When Danny heard the words 'laptop' and 'games' he immediately shut up, pulling an innocent face.

"You have WOW?," he asked, batting his eyelashes.

"Yes," I groaned, stretching over to the coffee table and grabbing the laptop, "and if you want something else I'll download it for you."

The spawn of Satan snatched the computer, trotting away to the couch and I sighed, rubbing my temples. It was going to be a long weekend.

"Come on, Tr... Tim," I corrected quickly, "let's go."

"Where to?"

"Anywhere but in the same place Danny is," I hissed, tossing him the keys to his bike, "unless you want to lose what's left of your mind."

"Hey, don't leave me here alone with him," Mike pleaded.

"He's your brother," I shot back, walking by my motorcycle to the garage exit, "you should be able to handle him. Come on, Tim, let's go, I know a nice place to hang out."

I led Tron to another deserted warehouse in the industrial area not far from the one we lived in. The place didn't look like much: some parts of the roof were missing, the yard was full of tall weeds and its gate and doors were locked.

"Come on, let's hide the bikes" I said, pulling mine to a spot where it couldn't be spotted by someone coming by the street.

Tron set his motorbike next to mine, shooting me a questioning glance as I kneeled to tie my shoelaces tighter.

"What's this place?," he asked, looking around curiously.

"You'll see," I told him as I got up, "We have to climb over the fence to get in."

I set into a jog before picking up the pace to a dead on sprint and launched myself high in the air, gripping the top of the concrete fence and vaulting over it into the yard, followed by the Monitor. He went to the doors and tried them to no result.

"I'm guessing you want to get in," he said, frowning, "how are we going to do that?"

"Obviously not through those doors," I retorted, "look at that support beam over there; we can climb up on it. I used to do this all the time even before I first came to the Grid."

Tron began climbing on the support beam but I was in the mood for a bit of showing off so I ran to some empty gas tanks, using them to leap over to one of the broken windows where I landed on my tiptoes on the narrow ledge. The Program hauled himself up, peeking inside the warehouse at a big hole in the upper level floor right in front of us. The dim light made it impossible to see the bottom, and broken support beams spiked dangerously around the edge.

"We jump," I told Tron, answering his unspoken question, "it's the only way down."

"It's a long drop," he warned, bending over in an attempt to see down the hole.

"Trust me, we can make it."

"If we die I'm blaming you," he growled, taking a deep breath before letting himself drop.

I plunged after him, letting out a loud cry of joy as I enjoyed the adrenaline surge of free falling through the air before I went head-first into the pool at the bottom with a splash. I resurfaced, blowing water from my mouth and swam to the edge where Tron was with a huge grin on his face.

"Did you like it?," I asked as he hauled me on the platform.

"Unexpectedly I did," he answered, shaking the water out of his hair, "The last free falling episode I had wasn't exactly pleasant but this was. How did you come by this place?"

"It belonged to ENCOM back in '89 before Flynn went missing, it was some sort of equipment storage," I explained, "but they deserted it shortly after Kevin disappeared. A water main broke and it flooded the entire basement levels, making this pool here, but the upper levels are perfect for parkour practice or even for some badass pictures. The place is huge actually, and it even has electricity and an internet connection."

I went to a control panel on the wall and flipped a switch, turning on the lights to reveal a large room from which a lot more corridors continued. I took two big towels from a drawer, tossing one to Tron so we could dry out.

"The ground floor is almost intact, but the other two are a bit damaged after 20 something years of being unused," I continued as the Monitor wiped his hair dry, "Another great thing is that nobody comes here, so I can do everything I want. That's how I could do all those parkour moves even before you trained me, I practiced here, and since we can't go to the Grid at the moment I thought we could have a bit of our kind of fun."

"'Our kind of fun'?"

"Does 'hide and seek' in the Grid version ring a bell?," I grinned.

"Why not," Tron shrugged, "you won't catch me anyway."

"Says you," I retorted, "if you manage to evade me and get back here you win. On the other hand, if I get my hands on you..."

"If you manage to beat me if and when you get me you win," he added with a smug smile, "how long do I have ahead of you?"

"Five minutes and I'm already counting."

Before I finished the sentence Tron had already disappeared on one of the corridors; I waited for about five minutes, as I told him before heading out for him through the maze of deserted offices and empty hallways I knew with my eyes closed. The hunt was short, as when I got a vantage point close to the roof I caught a glimpse of someone moving along the support beams underneath. A grin crept on my face when I saw Tron checking the open space carefully before he attempted to cross a narrow beam which led to a suspended platform. I sprinted along the beam I was on and leaped, twisting midair before I landed in a low crouch in front of the Monitor.

"Gotcha," I growled and the Program let out a matching snarl, lunging to get me.

I was ready for it, though, and with a well-placed kick in the gut I sent him off the beam; he managed to grab on to the edge, hanging fifty feet above the demolished floor of the warehouse.

"You might want to revise your earlier statement," I laughed, grabbing his wrists and hoisting him up.

A loud creaking sound reached us, and I frowned. Nobody came to this place, let alone by opening the front doors.

"Quick, someone's here," I hissed, pulling Tron to the platform and crouching close to the edge as I waited for the intruders to show themselves.

"Why are we here," a woman's voice said, "This place is a mess and you said it yourself, nobody has been here for twenty years."

Tron stiffened beside me but I ignored him as the other, a man, spoke too.

"I know, Q," he apologized, "but I wanted to see if there was anything useful Dad left here before he... you know what I mean."

"You miss him," the woman stated sadly as the man sighed.

"Of course I do, I get to see the old man after twenty years only to lose him again, after I get beaten by a purring, Kung-Fu flipping Enforcer."

"That Enforcer saved our lives, Sam," the woman chastised, "and he wasn't always like that."

What in the Grid...?

The strangers came into view and I saw a blonde man around his mid-twenties and a slim woman with jet black hair cut in a bob with the bangs at a slight angle framing her face. They both seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn't associate a name with their faces. A low growl made me turn and I looked at Tron, who was as pale as a sheet and shaking badly, fighting back tears as he stared at the pair.

"Tron..." I started, but he ignored me.

I could see his expression turn from shock to joy and then to sorrow in a couple of seconds and it dawned on me who the strangers were.

"Is it...?"

"The son of Flynn and Quorra," the Monitor murmured, "They managed to get out of the Grid after all."

I knew he was thinking about what he had done to Sam and Quorra as he was under Clu's influence so I took his hand.

"It wasn't your fault, Tron," I whispered, "it was Clu's and you know that."

The Program nodded, tears streaming on his face and I pulled him back as Quorra's gaze snapped up to the platform.

"I think I saw someone up there," she told Sam who turned to where she was pointing.

I yanked the still stunned Program to a small entrance, flattening against the wall.

"You have to go," I whispered, "they mustn't see you under any circumstances. You were supposed to be either dead or in the Grid, remember?"

"How do I get out?"

"Go to the roof," I instructed, "and then to that large water tower to the north, but don't make any sound and don't let anyone see you. I'll find you there."

Tron nodded, taking off on the corridor and I glanced down at the pair who looked around suspiciously.

"Come down, whoever you are," Sam called, "or we're coming up for you."

"No need for that," I answered, "I'm coming to you."

I jumped off the platform, grabbing the rails to break the fall and I landed in front of the pair. Quorra's hand instinctively reached between her shoulders where her Disk would normally sit, but she stopped when she saw me, her eyes going wide.

"She moves like Anon and Tron, Sam," she whispered softly before the Flynn shushed her.

"Who are you," he demanded.

"I'm Emily," I answered, "I saw you in the newspapers, you're Sam Flynn and this is your wife, Quorra."

"Now for the million dollar question, what are you doing here?"

"Hanging out," I retorted.

"In an abandoned warehouse?"

"I'm into parkour," I explained, "and this place is awesome for practice."

"Come on, Sam," Quorra intervened, "leave the girl be, she's just having fun."

"If you say so," her husband grumbled before he turned to me again, "how's this place holding up?"

"Good and bad," I shrugged, "the lower levels are flooded and the upper ones are unusable. The electric system works, though, and I managed to get an Internet connection in here as well, since I'm into computers."

"How old are you," the former ISO asked.

"I'll turn nineteen this year," I answered.

"You're good at this parkour thing," she said, "I only know two guys who can pull off those moves."

"Where are they, I might ask them to show me some more tricks."

Quorra sobered up, and I realized who the 'guys' were: the two System Monitors, Tron and Anon. I had been trained by the former, and the latter was his apprentice as well, so it was pretty obvious why I had the same fighting style they had.

"They both died," she said and I bowed my head, thinking about the Program who, I hoped, had fled the premises.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I didn't mean to make you remember anything painful."

"It's fine," she sighed, "are you in high school or something?"

"Yes, it's my last year."

"What college do you want to go to," Sam got into the discussion.

"Caltech or MIT, maybe," I said, "but I don't think I'll go to college, it's a waste of time and I already know what I need to know."

"If it helps," Sam supplied with a coy smile, "I dropped out of Caltech, it was too boring."

"Don't say that," Quorra chastised, "you know it wasn't your brightest idea."

"It wasn't my brightest idea to go to the Arcade that night," he retorted, "since I got thrown in the Games and..."

He remembered that I was there too and he stopped, but I knew what happened after, since I got almost the same treatment the first time I entered the Grid.

"Nevermind," he said, "it's nothing wrong with not wanting to go to college. You said you were good with computers, how good exactly?"

I broke into ENCOM in less than one night, but you don't need to know that.

"I hacked into NSA once or twice," I replied casually as if it was something normal and Sam's eyes widened.

"So you're good, then," he stammered, "I couldn't get past the last firewall."

When a System Monitor sits behind you and points the flaws in the network protection I guess it's easier to get through.

"Maybe you should pass by ENCOM tower sometime," Sam told me, "Alan could use some help."

"Alan?"

"Our Head Programmer," the Flynn explained, "the one who wrote TRON, the best firewall ENCOM ever had."

Oh, so you're talking about that System Monitor turned Enforcer and then back to his original function I rescued out of the Grid some months ago, who is currently less than half a mile from here, hiding so you won't see him. Yeah, I met him; he's a really nice guy once you get to know him.

"I heard about h-it," I amended, "the company took it down recently."

"That Dillinger jerk," Quorra growled, "I swear I'm going to de- um, murder him and Mackey one day."

Sam eyed his wife and I stifled a chuckle.

"Anyway," he said, "we could use a good Programmer, so you should really visit us."

"I have some work put up on one of the computers here if you want to see it," I offered.

"You managed to get them working?"

"It was easy," I dismissed, "just a few new parts and a half day's work and it was like new. However, it's a hell of a climb to get there."

"I think we can make it," Quorra smiled at her husband who grinned back, "lead the way."

"Take that stair over there," I instructed, "then go on that ledge. There are grip points on the wall, so you can get up fairly easily."

"Aren't you going to go with us?," Sam asked with a frown.

"I'll take the hard way," I grinned as I began to jog in the opposite direction.

I broke into a dead on sprint, vaulting to a small platform, climbing over the rails onto a support beam which took me right to where I directed the Flynns to go. Quorra got up first and we both hauled Sam to the intact piece of floor as he grumbled something around the lines 'she must be half cat if she can do that'. I led the pair to one of the empty offices I cleaned up, turning on the computer.

"Here," I said, opening the code file, "it's a kind of search program that'll show me all the results on the Internet instead of the fraction the other search engines give. I'm still working on it; some things are a bit off."

Sam sat on the creaky chair, scrolling down the lines of code when the phone I set up in the room rang, startling Quorra. I grinned apologetically and answered the phone, going outside the room so the couple won't hear me.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me why Tron came home with both your bikes a couple of minutes ago and locked himself in your room without a word?," Mike demanded from the other end of the line.

"Um, yeah," I said sheepishly, "we had some unexpected guests at the warehouse."

"I thought nobody came there."

"I thought that too, but Sam and Quorra Flynn showed up and..."

"Wait, wait, wait," Mike wheezed, "slow waaaaay down, Flynn as in the CEO of ENCOM?"

"Yup."

"And you're there with them?"

"Bingo," I chimed, "It's their warehouse after all."

"Man, what a lucky strike you have," he wondered, "Now, what do I do with Tron?"

"Leave him be," I told him, "he's quite upset about some nasty things he did before I got him out of you-know-where, I'll talk to him when I get home."

Mike sighed, and I heard a loud thud and an evil chuckle on the other end of the line.

"OI, DON'T TOUCH THAT," Mike shouted at Danny before muttering in the speaker, "I swear this kid is driving me crazy. Just hurry, Em, okay? I need a hand with Danny and Tron needs a good talk, he was really ticked off when he came, he only told me where you've been and stormed out of the room."

"I'll do what I can," I reassured him and the line went dead.

I went back to the office and Sam got up, clapping on my back with a huge smile on his face.

"That's really good work, kiddo," he cheered, "it needs a few tweaks but... wow, you really have a knack with it."

"Thanks," I said, "it's just a work in progress, nothing too much."

"You underestimate yourself," Quorra beamed, "give yourself some credit."

"Look, do you mind if I take a copy and show it to Alan?," Sam asked, "I'll get him to look into it and help you with those parts that don't work as they should, and I promise I won't let anyone use it."

"Why not," I shrugged, "go ahead, I never thought I'll get some of my work checked by the CEO of ENCOM."

Sam inserted a memory stick into the computer, copying the program. When the transfer was complete he pulled out the stick, putting it into his pocket.

"What are you going to do with the warehouse?," I asked, regretting that I had to part with the place I put so much work into.

Quorra shot Sam a meaningful look and the Flynn shrugged.

"It's unusable for what we had in mind," he said with a wink, "I guess you can keep it."


	11. 11: Pe(s)ts

**Wow, I finally got the time to put some order in my files and update this. I had the most exhausting, yet one of the funniest and nicest months of my life, with school ending, prom, a really nice show all Senior classes had to participate in (I had to learn street dance moves and my class was the best if I do say so myself). All in all, I did get the time to write, in fact I have a lot of the story already done, but the final exams are coming and I have to focus on those since my college admissions are based on the grades I get in these 3 exams. Romanian literature, Math and Programming are the big trio, and if I get good grades I'm off to Computer Science.**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter, I figured that a former Enforcer and a purring feline wouldn't get along too well.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

* * *

Emily POV

"Em, I have a question," Tron started as I was messing around in the room we shared, trying to put some order to the endless chaos in which I kept my things.

Of course Tron's stuff was organized with precision, almost to the point of seeming OCD. His half of the room was always clean, with everything into place while mine was a mess of clothes, make-up and books that usually ended into a pile on the floor, earning me a stern look and a reprimand from the Monitor when I had to desperately search for something that went missing. I literally couldn't find everything in there so my plans for the afternoon implied me becoming a modern version of Cinderella for the next few hours.

"Spit it out, man," I said, sweeping up a pile of dirty laundry from the floor.

"Why is there a fuzzy Gridbug that seems bent on derezzing Mike in the living room?"

"It's not a Gridbug, Tron, it's a cat," I explained, dumping the clothes in the laundry bin.

"What's a... cat?"

The confusion on the Program's face made me give a laugh, and when he raised his hand to scratch the back of his head - a tick he got after he came to the User world - I could see fresh scratches on his upper arm along with the older scars.

"It's a small animal us Users keep as pet," I said.

"Small animal? More like a spawn of hell," the Monitor rumbled rolling his eyes.

"Hey, don't talk like that about Tom," I chastised.

A loud shriek from downstairs silenced whatever reply Tron wanted to give and we hurried to the shop where Mike was doing a very good impression of a lion tamer against a black blur that growled and spat. I crossed the distance and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and it let out a feral hiss, still trying to get to Mike. I flicked the cat's nose hard with a finger and it stopped, falling completely still in my hand.

"Shush, Tom," I reprimanded, "we don't hurt the guys."

Both the Program's and User's jaws hit the floor as I cradled the now still cat to my chest and it nuzzled into my neck with another glare to the shocked guys, purring contently as I stroked its fur.

"Whoa, how on Earth did you do that," Mike stammered, finally getting out of the corner in which Tom trapped him.

"Guys, meet Tom," I announced, "he'll be our newest tenant."

"Are you sure about this?," Tron asked, eyeing the cat warily.

"He needed a home, I found him on the street when we got back from school and took him in. Isn't he adorable?"

I scratched between the cat's ears and the purr intensified, making me chuckle.

"Adorable? You've got to be kidding me," Mike snorted as Tron doubled with a nod, "Devil called earlier, he said he wants his lieutenant back."

Tom let out a feral hiss and lunged away from my arms in a flash of black fur, pinning the guys against the wall and scratching the hell out of their arms which they raised to protect themselves from the onslaught.

"Get it off of me," Tron shrieked as the cat dug its claws in his arm, "ow, you spawn of Satan, gerroff!"

Even though it meant that I risked getting to sleep with Tom in the garage I couldn't hold back a laugh at the sight of my two best friends, one of which was a former System Monitor and Enforcer on the Grid trying to fend off a small and very pissed mammal that made them both cower in a corner.

"Stop laughing and help us," Mike cried, yanking a chair and using it to keep Tom at bay.

The cat bolted by the legs of the chair and clawed at the User's leg, making him yelp with pain and uselessly shake his limb to get rid of it. Tron seized the opportunity and pried Tom away only to fall victim to another round of scratches and hissing. In his attempts to get the cat off of him the Monitor didn't notice the couch in his way and stumbled, falling over the armrest with a shocked cry as Tom continued his onslaught against the helpless Program and making me double over holding my stomach from so much laughter.

"Oh my god this is the funniest thing I've ever seen," I cackled, "the great Tron cornered by a cat!"

I finally managed to regain my composure and picked up the still angry animal away from the scared Program, heading straight to the kitchen. I put Tom on the counter and got a tuna can out of the fridge, dumping its contents in a bowl and filling another with water as the cat began devouring its meal. After it finished it circled on the countertop a couple of times before it curled down and began purring contently as it fell asleep, so I went out and locked the door behind me. Both the guys jumped and scooted to the corner, eyeing me carefully as I raised my hands into the air to show them their tormentor was gone. Mike was relatively fine but it seemed that Tom had taken the Monitor for the main threat since his t-shirt was torn in many more places and his arms were bleeding from numerous scratches.

"You sit down, Mike, get some bandages," I ordered sternly.

The Monitor dropped on the couch giving me a glare as Mike hurried back with some medical supplies. I took a cotton ball with some antiseptic and began dabbing at some scratches on the Program's muscular arm, ignoring his dark look and hiss when it stung him.

"Ow, that hurts," he grunted, snatching his hand away when I continued dabbing at the wounds, "oi, User, take it easy!"

I punched his midsection, making him let out a growl and I continued cleaning the scratches silently, finishing with a particularly nasty one on his jaw. His steel blue gaze followed me as I reached for a box of Band-Aids and began applying them over the marks.

"Here, you're done," I announced, getting up from the couch and heading back to the kitchen, "now you look like the Grid version of Frankenstein."

"Franken-what?"

"Tell code-head what Frankenstein is," I told Mike, "I'm kinda busy at the moment."

I swept up the sleeping cat and head back upstairs, two mirroring glares following me and the small furry bundle in my arms as we went up the stairs and I slammed the door of my room with a sound curse.

* * *

Mike/outside POV

The cat's war with the guys escalated the next morning when Mike woke up to the sight of a very pissed feline sitting on his chest. A menacing hiss made the mechanic think twice about going back to sleep and he picked Tom carefully with a hand in an attempt to put him down. Wrong move. The cat hissed again, flexing its paws and digging the razor sharp claws in its unwilling victim's t-shirt and he let it go as if it burned his hand. Mike could swear that the cat was daring him to make another move so he turned carefully to his phone on the nightstand, eyeing the feline warily as he dialed the first number in his call log.

"We're a hallway apart," Emily hissed from the other end of the line, "you could get off your lazy bum if you wanted to wake me up for school at six in the morning."

"I would if not for a certain spawn of Hell that won't let me," he replied dryly, "can you please get your beast out of my room before it decides to make me its meal?"

After a short pause the girl chuckled darkly and Mike closed an eye when her answer was, as expected, "No I won't."

"Em..."

"It's a small mammal against you, handle it," she snickered, ending the call.

"Just great," Mike grumbled.

The mechanic told himself it couldn't possibly get worse and snatched the growling feline off his chest, wincing as the claws dug into his hand when he dropped it by the bed. When the cat arched its back and let out another spitting hiss a thought crossed Mike's mind that things could get a lot worse and he backed off to the farthest corner of his room, looking for something he could use to fend the small Devil off. His fingers found a large encyclopedia and he snatched it off the shelf, using it as a shield when Tom launched across the room like a fuzzy cannonball. The cat smashed into the book and dropped to the floor with a pitiful whine.

"Ha, got you good spawn of Hell," Mike cheered before he let out a scared yowl when the cat tried to attack again.

A well timed swing of the encyclopedia sent the hellcat flying to the door and the mechanic lunged to open it in time for the cat to land unceremoniously on the hallway rug. Mike slammed the door with a satisfied smirk and began putting an appearance of order to his room which had the look of a battlefield after a nuclear bombardment.

He had just gotten dressed for the day when Emily called him for breakfast. The moment Mike set a hand on the doorknob a feral hiss could be heard through the wooden door and the mechanic saw the fatal flaw in his strategy.

"Come on Mike, your coffee is cold already," the girl shouted from downstairs.

"I kinda have a problem," he started as the cat began scratching at the hardwood from the outside.

"Don't be such a sissy and get down here," Emily ordered.

Cats could smell fear or were those dogs and high school bullies? Mike had no idea but he had a feeling that his day was off to a very bad start when the scratching intensified. The mechanic winced as he imagined what the cat had in mind for him but he managed to muster enough courage to open the door. He didn't think squealing like a fan girl was a wrong reaction when he went face to face with a very pissed and agile furball with sharp claws that snarled and spat as it coiled to strike. Mike was already considering his epitaph and last will when Emily moved faster than he believed it was humanly possible, catching the cat mid-jump before it managed to lay a paw on the shrieking mechanic. A low snicker built up to a guffaw and Mike noticed that Tron was doubled over by the door of his and Emily's room howling with laughter as the programmer fumbled with the still thrashing cat and moaned when it hacked a furball on her arm.

"Ewww, gross," she groaned and the Program almost collapsed from laughing so hard.

Both the Users shot the Monitor mirroring glares and Emily went inside her room where she deposited Tom on her desk before she took both her and Tron's book bags. Mike knew all too well the half smile and mischievous glint in the girl's eyes but he chose to shut up and see what she had prepared for her unfortunate victim. When she passed by the still snickering Program she tossed the bags on the floor and somehow managed to pin the Monitor in a very good example of the 'Vulcan neck pinch' from Star Trek in less than a second. Tron let out an ungodly yowl of pain and surprise and it was Mike's turn to laugh at the Program's confused face and hisses as he struggled to evade the girl's grip to no avail.

"Ow, woman, let go of me," he grunted, "or I'll..."

"What you will do will be stop laughing at other's misery before you have the same fate as theirs," she said in a sweet innocent voice in his ear before turning to her dreaded 'drill sergeant' tone, "in other words I might feed you to Tom if you don't behave. Do I make myself clear, System Monitor?"

"Crystal clear," Tron huffed, rubbing his aching muscles when Emily finally let him go, "Users you sounded like Clu for a moment."

Presented with the sight of a six foot tall guy that put many Spec Ops soldiers to shame with his combat experience being overpowered by a 55 kg teenage girl with a sweet smile that most likely hid a psycho mind Mike felt like he was entitled to a good laugh. However, a very dark and promising look from the said six-foot-tall dude made that laugh die quickly enough and the mechanic remembered he had to water his cactus before Em the Imp and Aragorn 2.0 decided to join forces against him in God knows what wicked prank.

"Now, who's it for some of my cooking," Emily asked, locking the door to her room.

"What's that smell?"

"Crispy bacon, eggs, cereal and pancakes," she counted over her shoulder in a mock southern belle accent, putting an extra sway to her hips when she went downstairs as if she knew that the guys would look.

And look they did, until Mike elbowed the dazed Monitor, craning his neck to look at their roommate's backside.

"She does know how to make an exit," the mechanic reasoned.

"If you didn't see her 'walk of fame' after she's gotten out of the showers in nothing but a towel you ain't seen nothing," Tron said thoughtfully as if he didn't even realize it was aloud.

"How on Earth did you see that?"

"You don't want to know," the Monitor snickered.

"Pics or it didn't happen."

"I think she deleted that bit where her towel dropped from the security feed of our hideout under the pretext of 'I don't want any weird stares after you've watched that a thousand times on repeat, you perverted piece of scrap encoding'."

"You saw her naked?," Mike squealed.

"Yup."

"And she didn't kill you?"

"Nope," the Monitor grinned, making a slap-across-the-face motion.

"And was it worth it? I mean Em in yoga pants is a piece of eye candy, so I suppose it was worth the Gibbs slapping you got for staring."

"That, my User friend, you will never know," the Program said slyly, leaving the human mechanic with his fantasies at the top of the stairs.

* * *

Emily POV

"You have 30 minutes to finish your test papers, class," Mr. Banner announced when he was done handing the papers, "and I'll allow no cheating in my class. You may begin."

I glared at the multiple choice quiz, wondering why God was inflicting such punishment as a surprise Biology test upon me. I was okay with it, but ever since I had the marvelous idea to sign up for the advanced class I seriously considered tossing something like a very large book or a flower pot at the teacher's head before I shot myself. 'Brainiac' Banner was that kind of teacher that sure knew how to mess up Friday with a lot of boring lectures and everyone dreaded his tests. I had a C average and was on my way to getting another F grade in his class which meant I could kiss Caltech bye-bye with such a score. What use was being a brilliant programmer when I failed the other classes?

When my brooding moment reached its apex I felt a light tap on my shoulder and a slip of paper made its way on my desk full of Tron's neat handwriting on both sides. The Monitor winked playfully and went back to finishing his own paper as I raised an eyebrow. Looks like someone's interested in User anatomy, I thought, scribbling the answers he gave me on my test slowly in an attempt not to look suspicious. Brainiac Banner shot me a glance and I put on my best poker face, praying silently that he won't come to check my work. Luckily the teacher didn't come and I nearly sighed in relief as he turned back to pestering the tarantula in its glass container, prodding at it with the end of a ruler. What Brainiac Banner didn't expect was that the spider would get the idea to climb up the said ruler and onto his hand so teacher and spider found themselves in a slightly unbalanced staring contest for a moment before he shrieked and shook his hand desperately to get rid of the eight-legged pest.

The entire class looked up from the test papers as the teacher hopped around the stand screaming bloody murder while the culprit was sent soaring into the air only to land on one of the desks in the first row. The said desk belonged to Jean and I couldn't blame her for the unearthly shriek she released when the creepy spider crawled towards the edge in an attempt to escape. One of the jocks decided to play the knight saving the damsel in distress and swept the tarantula off the table and onto the floor with a notebook.

Chaos ensued as all students shrieked and cried with terror as the spider looked around for a place to hide and it found it under my desk. I swear I never screamed so hard in my life like I did when I saw the disgusting hairy pest trotting on those legs towards me and I did the only logical thing at the moment which was hopping on the desk and praying the damn spider changed its mind before it reached me.

Of course fate had other plans with me and so the desk found a good moment to lean and collapse with me on top of it so I ended up frozen on the floor as the tarantula stopped in its tracks on my arm and looked at me with eight glassy eyes. The teacher intervened and picked up the creature on the same ruler with which he had poked at it earlier and dropped it in the terrarium as the class finally settled. At least that's what I thought, since all sounds had been muffled to a buzz and the edge of my vision seemed blurry a bit when I got up shakily from the floor and dropped back to my seat after someone had put the desk back to its normal position. Tron gave me my test back and he said something about him finishing mine too so I took another dazed glance to the paper and sleepwalked to the podium, handing the test to Braniac Banner.

"... Miss Grant, are you listening?"

"Um, no, I mean yes, I do," I blurted, having no idea what he had spoken.

"I said that you seem to be a bit shaken and Miss Spencer is about to faint, so I suggested that you both go and see the nurse. Mr. Marcus, will you please accompany the girls since you seem to have finished the test?"

Liam was already picking Jane up and also grabbed my elbow, guiding me outside the classroom and through the hallways to the nurse's cabinet before I could even protest.

"Hey, I'm fine," I said about halfway there, "no need to go to the nurse."

"You sure?"

"Positive. I just need a Coke and some place to sit down and I'll be fine. You'd better get her to the nurse, she doesn't look good at all."

My ex-boyfriend shrugged and carried the other girl to the medical cabinet as I rummaged through my pockets for some money I usually kept there and went to the nearest vending machine for a well-earned sugar fix. I was halfway through munching on the second Twix when Tron went out of the Biology lab with my things also in his hand and I waved him to come.

"I thought you went to fix that glitch," he said.

"This is the best fix," I grinned, waving the half eaten bar, "and in User term it's called a 'panic attack' not a glitch."

"Whatever," the Monitor shrugged, handing me my bag.

"Thanks for the test," I told him and he nodded, "I suppose I won't fail after all."

"If you studied you wouldn't have needed me to do it for you."

"I was studying in the Grid," I retorted, "there are some upgrades that occurred and they were worth looking into. Maybe I'll show you if you want."

"Why not," Tron shrugged, "have any more of those sweets, by the way? I'm starving."

I pointed to the vending machine with a grin and the Monitor's hand snatched the Twix I was holding.

"Hey, that's mine!"

"Not anymore," he snickered.

* * *

The afternoon was suspiciously peaceful after we got back home from school and I suppose it should have made me think that something was going to happen. When you live in a madhouse silence isn't necessarily a good thing and soon enough I was proved right.

An ungodly yowl and a loud bang made me take off my headphones and peer out of the door as Tom bolted inside, hiding under the bed as a long stream of Grid curses followed him.

"What the hell..."

Tron was lying sprawled at the bottom of the staircase, cradling his left leg as a mix of pain and anger twisted his features. I didn't have to be a medic when I saw the awkward way the limb was contorted to know it was serious, so I sprinted down and kneeled by him.

"What happened," I demanded as the Program spat one more curse.

"That glitching cat was sleeping on the stairs," he hissed, "I saw it too late and stumbled... Users, it hurts..."

"Where's Mike?"

"Out," came the strained answer.

The Monitor tried to stand up and failed miserably, color draining from his face when he set his weight on the wounded leg. I knew he was too proud to cry or show anything but I was just as sure that it hurt like hell so I wiggled under his arm and helped him support his weight as we went down to the living room. I set him on the bottom stair and gently felt where the bones were bulging awkwardly, earning a pained hiss from the Program.

"It's broken," I declared, making him give me the 'you don't say' look, "I'll have to get you to the Grid to fix it if you don't want to have it in a cast for the next month."

I hoisted the Monitor up, and the fact that he was heads taller than me didn't quite help as we hobbled downstairs. With every step I could see Tron's face turn even paler and by the time we got down his hand dug ditches in my bicep but he didn't make a sound.

"Damned male pride," I snarled, earning a pained chuckle and a groan.

I unlocked the door and deposited the Program in the laser's path, activating the digitizing sequence and shooting both of us to the Outlands hideout where I hurried to put Tron on a berth in the med bay before I began the now familiar ritual of fixing the broken code in his Disks.

"I guess I owe you an apology," I muttered, making the Program raise an eyebrow as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"What for?"

"It wasn't my best idea to bring the cat in," I bellowed, arranging the code sequence back to what it should have been and using it as an excuse to avoid his gaze.

"It wasn't its fault this time," Tron admitted sheepishly, "I wasn't paying attention and it took me by surprise."

"Still, it wasn't a good idea."

"We can live with it," the Monitor dismissed, "I've faced worse than a small furry pet with wickedly sharp claws that hates me with all its guts."

"You know, I found it on an alleyway next to the high school scouring for food, it was mewling so sadly I couldn't help but take it home with me," I recalled, sighing tiredly, "I seem to have a knack for picking up stranded pets that need help."

"Yeah," Tron chuckled softly, "the first one you saved won't ever forget the moment you found him laying on a beach hoping for a quick demise to end all the pain."

"Instead of sweet heavens you ended up in more trouble than you've ever imagined, huh?"

"What's life without a little trouble to spice it up," he said amusedly, "I tend to like a bit of a challenge once in a while."

"But not a cat," I snickered.

"I don't mind it as long as it doesn't try to derezz me."

"It's just scared, Tron," I said, "I got my fair share of scratches too when I found it."

With that I derezzed the armor on my arms and showed the Monitor a lot of red marks that striped the otherwise pale skin.

"You were just as terrified when I found you," I recalled, "how long did it take you to stop attacking me when I woke you up? A cycle?"

"Two actually," he corrected, "but the first cycle you had to take away my Disks every time I went to sleep."

I put the code back into the conjoined Disks and handed them to Tron who snapped them back to the dock, sighing as they synchronized and the fracture sealed.

"You're getting really good at this," he said.

"Maybe I should take med school instead of Computer Science," I teased.

"I don't think so; this is because of your skill with programming. I doubt many people apart from Flynn and the Medical Programs could fix all the vast array of injuries our kind gets."

"I had to learn fast," I grinned, "more so since I have a habit of getting messed up. By the way, I noticed something interesting with your code while I was fixing it, it's much more complicated than it was the first time I looked at it."

"Say... WHAT?!"

"There are some sub-routines I've never seen in my life, also the code has expanded and..."

"And what," he asked desperately, "is Rinzler developing?"

"No, your pest's in check, but... Scrap, it's better if you see it. Give me the Disks and try that leg of yours."

The Monitor hopped off the berth and tried the healed limb with some of his favorite acrobatics as I pulled his source code and expanded the hologram to the full height of the room. The intricate network of encoding shimmered light blue as the viral highlights flickered among the rest.

"See, these bits over here," I said, pointing at a cluster of code, "you didn't have them before."

"Put yours up too," Tron ordered and I set my Disks on the ground, doing the same thing with my code and I almost fell down when I saw it.

Logically my code was infinitely more complex since I was a User, but the similarities were striking. The new routines in Tron's code were in mine too, and even the layout was almost the same.

"Yours looks like an ISO's," I gasped, "your function isn't singularly defined anymore, and you formed some sort of barrier against the viral code in your Disks."

"And the learning algorithm," Tron said, "it's more like an User's than anything. How in the Grid did it happen?"

"I honestly have no... Wait, I think I know why this happened, but I need to run some tests to be sure."

I began pacing in front of the hologram, enlarging some pieces of code and humming softly as I inspected them before I pulled out a particular one.

"The source code is the Grid equivalent to the User DNA, but it's usually much more simpler than ours, encoding a function and all its subroutines," I explained more for myself than for the confused Monitor, "sometimes it's more complex like in the case of System Monitor who needs to assess threats to the system and eradicate them efficiently, but one thing all Programs lack is what we in the User world call 'free will'. I doubt that anyone can encode it, it's such an abstract and complicated notion its variables are infinite, so all Basics are restricted to performing the tasks and routines commanded by their function. This, however, it's different."

I turned to the still bewildered Program, my eyes glinting with the thrill of the discovery.

"You're a Basic and still you managed to surpass your programmed function and attained free will, Tron," I continued, barely containing my enthusiasm, "this is marvelous, I had no idea it could happen but it's in your code! The thing no programmer could achieve by now is right here, in front of us! Gracious Lord, Zorn will have to eat his helmet, I told him it was possible with Basics too!"

"So I don't have a function anymore?," Tron asked, looking shaken.

"You still have it, but you can work around it and bend the rules how you see fit. The ISOs were functionless indeed, but what you have is a mix of Basic and ISO encoding that allows infinite possibilities, with only one drawback."

"What is that?"

I shifted my weight uncomfortably, knowing that his reaction wouldn't be the best.

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad," Tron insisted.

"Clu's tampering with your code and the reprogramming were what triggered the change in the first place, and your time in the User world accelerated the process," I sighed, shuffling my feet without looking at him, "You'll never be rid of Rinzler entirely and your capability to bend the rules of your function means that he can do the same. From now on it'll be a matter of how well you can contain him rather than shaking him off entirely."

"Is there any way..."

"None that doesn't imply killing you both in the process," I said sadly, "he's a part of you now, it's like asking me to remove your brain, or your heart, or your skeleton."

A sudden ping and a warning message mad my head whip to the monitoring screens and I quickly minimized the code and tossed Tron his Disks.

"We have company," I growled, bolting to the screens, "the proximity alarm went off."

"Friend or foe?"

"I have no idea, but it'd rather be friend or he's in for a nasty surprise. Stay back and if anything happens it's go time."

I hopped on the elevator platform and sprinted to the garage entrance, turning the code transparent to see a male Program whose circuit pattern I knew very well.

"Come on, Enyo, I know you're here," he called, knocking on the door.

I opened it and Zorn greeted me with a lopsided smile.

"Thought I might find you here," he grinned.

"How in the Grid did you find this place," I exclaimed, ushering him in, "I thought I did a good job concealing it."

"I'm a Search Program, remember? I have to admit though, it was a glitch to pinpoint your signal, it disappeared a lot. Is your friend here too?"

"You're speaking about my supposedly derezzed friend or my other amigos, 'cause those are cubes," I asked and the Program winked.

"The still alive one," he grinned as we boarded the platform, "I have some news that might prove interesting for you both."

Zorn's jaw dropped when we arrived in the living room as if he was utterly shocked.

"What a place you have, Enyo," he said, "I had no idea it was this big."

"I like comfort," I replied simply, "so I got comfort. And everything else I could ever need."

The Program's eyebrows shot up but he knew better than to ask anything as Tron came into sight, a cheeky smile lighting up his features as he greeted the Program.

"What news of Tron city," he demanded, motioning us to sit down.

"Well, things are pretty peaceful apart from some Rogues," Zorn began, "but the interesting thing is that the Games are still going on, based on volunteers. There was this Basic that went in a cycle ago, his designation is Zero, and he's proving quite a problem more so after he became Champion of the Games."

"What kind of problem?," I asked.

"He's quite a tough bloke, and quite brutal too," the Program explained, "and ever since he came in town he's been causing a lot of trouble, illegal fighting going bad, Programs disappearing, a lot more Strays on the streets. We suspect he was sent away from Purgos after a Disk contraband went awry. Long story short, he's giving the new Guard a hard time keeping things calm. There's a special event tonight, a double fighter round, and the winners get to face him. A lot of the Basics want him away but we couldn't do anything so..."

"You came to the right Programs," I grinned, "we'll take care of that zero-bit."

"You should know that there's also a bounty on his head," Zorn added, "two modified Light Cycles and some nice Disk upgrades."

"That's nice," I agreed, "sign us in."

"I already did," the Program said slyly, "you aren't the one to say no to a challenge."

* * *

Tron POV

The first two rounds were child's play, the Programs falling under our Disks without too much of a fight. Zorn had signed us in under fake names and Emily had changed my armor pattern so I wouldn't be recognized, both keeping our helmets on as we fought in the arena.

**Team 5 against Zero**, the voice of the Grid announced, **final round. Prepare for module assembly.**

The combat modules joined in the middle of the Arena and I got the familiar rush of the fight surging in my systems. I shoved Rinzler back into hiding and readied my Disks, keeping them conjoined. Only three Programs in the history of the Grid fought with double Disks and the guess would have been easy between me, Rinzler and Em, so it was better not to show off... too much, though knowing the User she was going to put up quite a spectacle for the crowd.

The last module raised and I assessed my opponent carefully. This Zero Program was quite a handful, standing up to a good 7 ft. and looked like he was the kind to fight brutally and mindlessly, using sheer force to crush his opponents. Emily and I looked like underfed kids compared to him, but many times it wasn't strength that brought victory.

"He's big," the User hissed.

"I've fought bigger," I retorted, glancing at Zero, "we work together and he's down in no time."

The Program took out his Disk and hurled it towards Em so she had to vault high into the air to avoid it and the moment she landed we sprinted to Zero matching our stride perfectly. After a couple of baseball games with Mike and the guys in class the User had an idea which involved me tossing her over a gap which ended up having rather interesting results apart from a couple of broken hands and some damage to the Grid - okay, we managed to destabilize a cliff, but it was worth it - so I didn't have to ask when I saw her changing her way and propelled her through the air in a graceful twist. Her Disks smashed upon Zero's and I slid by, hamstringing the Program as I skidded to a stop. I noticed the arrows on the far wall reverting and ran up the wall in time as the gravity reversed, smashing Zero to the former ceiling along with Emily. The Program grabbed the User and tossed her into me, sending us both flying to the other end of the Arena where we hit the wall.

"Not so strong, are you," Zero bellowed and charged towards us with a roar.

Ever heard the expression "like a deer caught in the headlights"? I had no idea what a 'deer' was but I could imagine how it felt as the huge Program ran to the wall, gaining momentum with every step.

"Duck," Emily snarled and I let myself slide down as Zero hit the wall where we were earlier.

There was a loud crunch when his unprotected head smashed into the glass barrier and I chuckled evilly as the Program fell to one knee, looking dizzy.

"Bad call," the User taunted, coiling to strike.

Her conjoined Disks dug into the back of Zero's neck in a perfect arc, severing his head from his body before he even got the chance to react. The crowd erupted into cheers as the Program crumbled to pixels and I knew that a wide grin many would deem at least unnerving if not downright psychotic was hiding behind the User's ebon helmet.

* * *

Emily POV

"Give'em here," I gloated, extending a hand over to where Zorn stood.

The Search Program had offered both of us a drink at a new night club in the sector where the End of Line used to be and needless to say I accepted, so now I was lounging on a comfy sofa with my feet on the table, smiling slyly as I played with Tron's hair casually much to his disdain. Zorn handed me two batons and the code cubes with the upgrades and I played with them before I set them beside me and downed my glass in one gulp.

"Oi, Program, we want more drinks," I called, "and hurry up, I ain't got all cycle!"

"Good job in the Arena," Zorn said as the bartender set another round of energy cocktails on the table, "It was quite the show."

"I tend to like a show sometimes," I purred, raising my glass -the fifth of the night- and knocking it to Tron's, "hey, why don't you drink, Program? It's time to celebrate!"

"Someone has to carry your over energized ass home," he grumbled.

"Loosen up, man, have a drink, everything is fine," I said, swirling my fingers carelessly to the nape of his neck.

The Monitor involuntarily shuddered and struggled to work around the low purr rumbling in his throat as his cheeks blazed a lovely shade of scarlet.

"Hey, cut it out," he growled softly and I chuckled.

"Oh, you sound just like Tom," I chirped, brushing my fingertips once more right above where his neck armor ended before a warning glance made me stop.

"I'm a guy after all," he shrugged, "and I'm not a senseless dummy either, so it would be better to stop."

"You're such a killjoy," I complained.

I got up but I had to immediately sit back down since everything started spinning out of control.

"Oups, who destabilized the code?," I giggled, trying to get up again, "everything's spinning."

Tron pulled me down on the couch, slinging an arm around my shoulders so he could keep me still. I was kinda seeing doubles of everything, and I felt... absolutely drunk. Suddenly a nap seemed like a good idea, so I melted on the couch, trying to keep my eyes open.

"Tron..." I slurred and the Monitor looked down from his discussion with Zorn.

"Hmm?"

"I have an idea what do with the cat," I said.

"You'll tell me about it after we get home, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, pausing for a moment before I added, "never ever let me over energize again."

* * *

Two milicycles later...

Zorn was usually careful whenever he went home. Not many Programs knew where he lived and he wasn't too fond of unexpected guests, a remnant of the time spent running from Clu's agents, so he didn't think caution was unneeded when he found a box sitting on his doorstep with a note pinned on top. A low whine and a sad mewl came from the container and the Program picked up the note carefully.

I know this is an awkward request so please bear with me. I found this in Flynn's hideout, his name is Tom and it's a small Program the Creator rezzed as some sort of joke when he first created the Grid. It has no function apart from being what he called a 'pet', but I can't take care of it and neither can Enyo, our lifestyle is... erratic at the least and we couldn't let it derezz, so I hoped that you can find it a home. I left instructions for handling it in the box, it doesn't require much work.

PS: Watch out for those claw things on its paws, they hurt a lot.

The note was signed with Tron's tetramino in the bottom and Zorn sighed, opening the small container to reveal a black furry thing curled on the bottom along with an information file. The small Program mewled again, looking at Zorn with begging blue eyes and the Search Program picked it up awkwardly, inspecting it cautiously.

"I guess I can do you a favor and take care of this little guy," he thought aloud and the cat began purring.

The Program scratched between Tom's ears and the purr intensified, bringing a small smile on Zorn's face as he opened the door and set the cat on the floor. It immediately went to Zorn's favorite chair and curled on the seat, falling asleep in less than a second as his new owner inserted the file that came along in his Disk, oblivious to the other two Programs that watched him from the distance. Both of them were carrying the same cat-like grace and the thinner one, obviously female, was crouching on the edge of the platform in an attempt to see better.

"You think he can handle it?," she asked, her voice distorted by the ebon helmet she wore.

"He's been through worse than your hellcat," the other dismissed, "it's the best place it could be in right now."

"Two things that purred in one house are too much indeed," the female teased, "now you have no more competition to worry about."

The male Program with blue circuits sighed, shaking his head.

"You know it's the Other who purrs, not me," he hissed.

"Yeah, unless someone gives you a good massage or plays with your hair."

"One time and you'll never let it go, Emily?"

"You know me better than that, Monitor," the User snickered, "You have to admit it was funny."

The Program grumbled something under his breath and the User straightened up and slapped his shoulder friendly.

"At least I won't have to patch up your scratches," she said, glancing one last time to the now securely locked door, "though I'll miss Tom."

"It was your idea," the Program groaned, "It's too late for second thoughts."

"Okay, okay, don't be such a stick in the mud."

The User rezzed a small command panel and typed in something and both silhouettes disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the sector silent and deserted again.


	12. 12: Another week in the Madhouse

**Oh my God, finals week is over! I was so stressed but it was worth it, the results came Monday and I got a 9,68 out of 10 average with an awesome top grade in Programming, so my next priority is getting all the admissions part ready and I'm off to college! I'm so sorry I didn't update in ages, but these exams were super-important so I didn't really get the time to get through that process of finding the final variant of the chapter, spell-check and such. I have a big part of what comes next written, though, so I might post two or three chapters in the next... well, in the next hour or so:)). **

**Another great thing that happened (apart from hitting 11 reviews, which is awesome; thank you ****Spirited Mare**** for being reviewer no. 10, I am so glad you liked it) is that I got a cat! His name is Loki and he is one lucky black cat.**

**Getting on to the part some of you had been waiting for, the story. I had intended to make a separate one-shot out of this but it actually worked as a chapter so here you are, Another week in the Madhouse. It's mostly Tron's perspective with an occasional appearance from my OC.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah, blah.**

**Please enjoy and review**

* * *

**Day 1- Sunday (or how to blow up a toaster)**

"Trooon, wake up," a female voice whined and she shook my shoulder hard.

"It's not my patrol shift, Quorra," I growled, turning to the other side with my eyes still closed, "go pester someone else."

I found a colder spot on the pillow and hummed contently, preparing to go to sleep again when someone tried to yank the blanket off me, sending me tumbling to the floor as she did. I opened my eyes with an annoyed growl that reminded me of Rinzler and glared at the snickering User who held my blanket as her shoulders trembled with silent laughter.

"I told you to wake up," Emily grinned impishly holding out a hand.

I took it and she dragged me up, her sapphire blue eyes glinting with barely concealed amusement.

"What a way to start a morning, User," I hissed, snatching the blanket out of her hands, "I swear you could have given Clu lessons on being a jerk sometimes."

"Well, it is your turn to make breakfast today and I'm hungry," she chirped innocently.

Oh, Users, she even did the puppy dog eyes. Yori pulled that one when she really wanted me to do something and I was never able to resist it.

"Fine, I'll do it," I sighed.

"Thanksie, Tron," Emily beamed, "I'll be in the basement, just shout when you're done."

And with that she twisted on her heels and bolted to her lair, leaving me dumbfounded in the middle of the room with a blanket in my hands for a second before I went downstairs. Cooking was unexplored territory for me, ever since I had come to the User world either Emily or Mike were on kitchen duty so I had only a vague idea about what I had to do.

"Okay, this can't be so hard," I hummed for myself, making a quick list of what I needed.

Five minutes later I realized that I might have overestimated my abilities when the device Users called a toaster simply refused to do what it was programmed to do. I glared at the innocent looking appliance, seriously considering sending it on a one way trip to the scrapyard as I put in the fourth batch of bread but this time it stayed in and a small light turned on. With that out of the way I turned to the coffee maker, hoping that the Users wouldn't notice if I poured an extra mug for myself; another thing I discovered quickly after moving in with them was that both Mike and Emily were big coffee lovers, but the girl was absolutely addicted to it to the point of freaking out if she ran out of her "daily dose of zombie antidote" as she called it.

I fussed around with the rest of the things I found in the fridge for some time but at some point I caught a whiff of something burned and turned to see a thick cloud of smoke coming from the toaster.

"Stupid piece of scrap code," I snarled, grabbing a fork and attempting to remove the charred bread from the device.

It turned out to be one of my really bad ideas when the damn thing sparked and simply blew up. Luckily it missed me and most of the kitchen, making a mess on the countertop and on the floor. I somehow managed to burn my fingers and dropped the fork, cursing again as I waved away the smoke that filled the room before I stuck my singed hand under the tap.

"Ow ow ow ow," I hissed as the water came scalding before I turned the faucet to the coldest setting and let it soothe the stinging burn.

Fifteen User minutes later I managed to put up something similar to what Em used to make for breakfast, but the toaster was in such a bad condition I couldn't save it. When everything was done and I managed to get all the smoke out by opening the windows I went downstairs, plastering on my best 'please don't kill me' smile before I knocked on the door.

"Food's ready," I announced.

"Oh, great," Emily said, saving the project she was working on before she followed me upstairs.

"Hey, who blew the toaster up," Mike asked from the kitchen and I closed an eye, waiting for the reprimand.

"It was Tron's turn to play Master Chef today," Emily snickered, shooting a glance at me and I felt my ears turn hot.

"Well, I, uh..." I started sheepishly, shuffling my feet, "It wasn't working at first and then it crashed completely. I didn't mean to break it."

"Relax, at least you didn't set the kitchen on fire," Mike reassured me as he shot a meaningful glance at the other User, "Other people did worse on their first time cooking."

It was Emily's turn to gain a bright shade of scarlet and she glared daggers at her roommate.

"I didn't set the kitchen on fire, Mike, the smoke set off the fire alarm," she hissed.

"Yeah, you managed to burn the soup and I had to scrape the pot clean after," the mechanic snickered, "How on earth did you manage to burn soup? It's a liquid for God's sake!"

"Okay, Users, time to eat," I ordered quickly before Emily gave her friend one of her infamous dry replies, "that toaster and my fingers didn't get sacrificed for nothing."

* * *

**Day 2 - Monday (or the flu episode)**

I groaned as another wave of pain seemed to split my head in two. Ever since I got up in the morning I felt a bit under the weather, but by the time school was over I got an epic headache that was well on the way to becoming a full blown migraine. Add up the sensation of having something like gravel stuck in my throat and a lot of sore muscles and I could be declared a wreck.

"Hey, mind if I go shut down a bit," I asked Emily as we got home, "I need some rest."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, tossing her bag on the couch.

Every step to the first floor sent a jab of pain to my already dizzy head and by the time I crashed on the couch I had the sensation that someone had strapped me in a Light Jet that was spinning out of control by the way the room was swaying. After what it felt like a couple of seconds of shut down time I woke up sweaty yet freezing as Emily came into the room. It took her one glance at me to notice that something was off and she sat down by the couch looking a bit worried.

"Sorry I woke you up," she apologized before adding, "Are you fine? You look kinds pale."

"It's nothing," I groaned, wincing as the room started spinning again, "I'm just tired, that's all."

"You don't look well at all," she deadpanned, laying a palm on my forehead, "and you're burning like a stove."

"Maybe it's a small malfunction," I croaked, breaking into a coughing fit, "Can you fix it?"

"Yup, some tea, pills and lots of rest," Emily said, and I noticed that she was sniffing too.

"You've got the same bug? Is it viral?"

"Sorta yes, it's called catching a cold. Damn, it will be a double batch of tea and blankets by the looks of it," she added after a short sneeze, "I got it too."

* * *

**Day 3 - Tuesday (or why you shouldn't mess with security Programs on a pranking spree)**

"You have to go to school, Emily," I said for the 45th time.

The User folded her arms and refused to budge, a nasty scowl lingering on her face.

"I told you, Tron, if I get anywhere near those two I'm going to pull a Rinzler and deliver them both to the hospital in a body bag," she growled, "I'd rather not spend my life in a jail cell for murder. I caught them making out in my deposit, can you imagine that?! They should think themselves lucky because I didn't beat them to a pulp right there!"

I let out an annoyed sigh, returning a matching glare to the User's sapphire blue one. There was no way to make Users to do something if they didn't want to, and this was a lesson learned ever since I had my first contact with Flynn. If he had an idea he considered good he would stick with it no matter what I, Anon, Clu and Quorra thought about it. Users know how many times we had to get him out of trouble because of his stubbornness, and Quorra followed right behind in my 'terror of the Grid' top at the time with her liking for dangerous pranks and her tendency to speak exactly what went through her head at the moment.

"Fine, do as you want," I grunted, "but don't blame me if you get in trouble."

"Finally some common sense," Emily sighed, turning back to the computer screen, "and now that you're done lecturing me you'd better get going, you're going to be late."

I grabbed my things and left the basement without another word to the User, already forming a plan in my head. If she's so bent on derezzing that kid and his girlfriend, maybe I should have a look at it... well, maybe more than just a look actually, I had experienced firsthand Em's reaction when she found out that he was still talking to that null-bit blonde behind her back and I was waiting to get some payback.

_"Oooh, Tron's in a bit of a vengeful mood_," Rinzler purred in my head.

_"Shut up, virus_," I growled but then I paused, getting another idea, "_Actually don't shut up, I might as well use you."_

_"Well that's a first_," the Enforcer scoffed, "_what will you have me do?"_

_"Make some Users' life living hell;"_ I chuckled darkly, "_that's a thing you're really good at after a thousand cycles of making my life hell."_

* * *

It was unexpectedly entertaining to set up all those traps for the two kids, and also unexpectedly easy. Okay, my System Monitor training helped but still, they were so distracted I could have done even more than I did. I let Rinzler to the front, sometimes even letting him take control for a short span while we prepared the makeshift revenge and I could feel devious pleasure bleeding from the Enforcer from time to time.

_"Okay, everything's in place,"_ I growled playfully, "_now it's your turn. Remember..."_

_"No killing, maiming or serious injuries, no purr, no Grid references, act like you,"_ Rinzler recited, _"I've got it. Now sit back and enjoy the show."_

I backed off and let Rinzler take the reins, still watching from behind as the Enforcer took his place obediently in the class, waiting for our targets to come in. The guy, Liam, came in first and sat down at his desk directly on the almost invisible glue on his chair.

_"One down,"_ I cheered, giving my evil twin a mental high five as the guy fussed around on his phone, oblivious to the fact that he had been owned, _"now we have to wait for the rest."_

* * *

Emily POV

I knew my timetable well and Tron was half an hour late. I tried calling him but the voicemail answered every time which was very odd for the usually punctual Program so after some time of fuming and pacing in the basement I decided to go see in what trouble he had gotten himself into.

"And I damn told him to keep that damn phone with him... Oi, Mike, I'm going to get code-head from school," I called through the garage door.

"Isn't he here already, I mean class is over for half an hour."

"That's what worries me," I growled, going upstairs and rummaging through my closet for some clean clothes.

I had only snatched a pair of jeans and a tank top when my IPhone rang, and I hurried to pick up after a quick look at the call ID.

"Where the hell are you," I snarled.

"Uh, I'm still at school," came Tron's answer.

"And why are you there?"

"You see, I... "

"Well?"

"I kinda got that detention thing," he said sheepishly, "I swear I didn't mean to break that dude's arm, he tried to..."

"Wait, wait, wait," I stopped him, already gaining a really bad feeling, "why did you get that detention again?"

"Well, I might or might have not pulled some pranks today..."

"Enunciate, Program," I ordered in my 'drill sergeant' voice, "what pranks?"

"Well, that Liam guy and Jean were getting on my nerves and... wait a sec, principal's here, gotta go."

"Tron, when you get here you're cubes," I yelled in the phone but the line already went dead.

* * *

Tron POV

When I maneuvered the car on the driveway I could already spot a very angry Emily stalking towards the parking lot.

_"Uh-oh,"_ Rinzler said_, "she's pissed."_

_"I've seen Clu calmer after Anon pulled a prank on him,"_ I agreed, _"but today was worth the meltdown."_

_"If she derezzes us, I'm blaming you."_

_"That's most unhelpful, Rinzler,"_ I groaned.

"What on earth did you do to get a detention, null-bit," the User snapped when I got out of the car, "and what was that about pranks?"

"If you saw it you'd have been laughing your ass off," I told her, "it was better payback than you killing them anyway."

Her hard gaze softened a bit and she raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, Program, I'm giving you another chance," she hummed, "if those pranks were really that good I'll keep the lecture for another time, but trust me, they'd better be worth that detention or you won't like what follows."

"Well, we pulled the superglue chair on Liam, spilled paint all over his locker and messed the contacts in his phone but that isn't the masterpiece," I explained, "Did you know that Jean washes her hair after cheerleading practice?"

"Yes I do," Emily frowned, having no idea what I was talking about.

"Well, I can tell you that she won't be blonde anymore after today," I snickered, "Rinzler and I put some bright green dye we found in the art supplies drawer in her shampoo. I took some pictures of it too if you want to see."

I pulled out my phone and showed her some snapshots of a very green haired Jean after she had fallen right into my trap. Too bad that neither Rinzler nor I could keep our composure and our combined amusement turned into a fit of hysterical laughter on both sides which gave us up and ended me in the principal's office.

"You also said something about breaking someone's hand," Emily said after she stopped laughing, wiping away tears of mirth from her face.

"Oh, that wasn't my fault," I growled, "that guy was trying to kick me down in basketball but he hurt himself instead, the teacher saw it and sent him to the hospital."

"Okay, I have to admit it was worth it," Emily said, clapping my back a bit too hard, "that's what you get when you mess with the best security Program there is and his evil twin. You get away this time, but don't get another detention."

* * *

**Day 4 - Wednesday (or 'leave for tomorrow what you're not in the mood for doing today')**

The last note on the User's assignment board was a bit ominous for me: the science fare was tomorrow and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do, let alone how in the Grid I was going to make it in two User days. Emily had said something about the project being half of the Science grade so it meant that if I blew it I would fail the class, a prospect I wasn't too happy about. However, designing stuff and engineering weren't in my programming to begin with; Yori was the one who did it, she was a simulations Program, and also Beck, who was mechanic before I met him, while I took care of the fighting part.

"Someone's troubled," I heard Emily say from behind me, "what's bugging you?"

"That science project, I have no idea what to do for it and it's due tomorrow."

"If it helps I didn't do mine either," she said, sitting on the carpet.

I had a sketchbook open on the floor and she flipped the pages, looking at the drawings that graced the pages before she stopped on one of the first: an image of Beck as the Renegade from the Uprising in Argon.

"He was a mechanic just like Mike, wasn't he," Emily asked.

"Yes he was, but he also had the skill of a System Monitor," I said, recalling how I first met him: he had beheaded Clu's statue and ended up being chased by the occupation soldiers.

"I think I know what we can do for that project," the User hummed as she flipped the page to a drawing of my first Light Cycle and tapped a finger on it, "it's going to be a big one so we'll do it as a team and it's going to be as good here as it will be on the Grid for our little incidents with the Rogues."

"A Light Cycle? How in the Grid are we going to rezz one here?"

"Not the full vehicle, just the plans and presentation," she explained, "and then we'll rezz it in the Grid to test it."

"We have eight hours to design a Light Cycle," I deadpanned, "we won't have the time to do it."

"On the contrary, we have all the time we need," she countered with a lopsided grin, "nobody said that we're going to do it here."

* * *

"Ookay, now for the finishing touches," Emily growled as her fingers flew over the keyboard, "'Project name... nah, Light Cycle is too close to the ENCOM games... okay, I've got it. Authors... Emily Grant and Tim Anderson... And save, and it's done."

"And it's 5 AM," I added, stifling a yawn.

"If you count the actual time of making this from scratch it took us two days of working around the clock," the User said, pulling out the storage device, "if we don't get an A I'll feed the teacher to a swarm of Gridbugs." 

* * *

**Day 5 - Thursday (or parasites and malfunctions)**

"Alright, Tron, now it would be good to stay still and relax," Emily instructed as she began operating on my Disks.

The last patrol we went on ended up in a huge fiasco after a brief encounter with some Black Guards who took me as Rinzler. That wouldn't have been a problem for either of us usually, more so since the User's ability to Sense the Grid was developing at a fast pace and she picked the Programs out before I did, but I glitched for unknown reasons and almost got us both derezzed. The User had confined me to base despite my protests and insisted to check if there was something wrong, so I ended up on a berth looking at her running diagnostics on my Disks.

"Okay, I think I need another point of view," she muttered, conjuring a menu on both my Black Guard Disk and in the air.

She typed in a few commands and a holographic image of Rinzler appeared.

"Whoa, I did not expect that," the Enforcer snorted, shooting a glance at me, "what did you do to end up in the repair bay?"

"What did you do to make me glitch in the middle of a fight," I growled, getting up from the berth.

"Shut it Programs," Emily snapped as Rinzler's hologram opened his mouth to reply something I could bet my Disks it wouldn't have been nice, "if you glitch again at the wrong moment the three of us will end up in cubes on the floor so shut-the-hell-up and let me fix you."

The authority all Users had bled through her command and made Rinzler's jaw snap shut and me drop back on the berth, exchanging a sympathetic glance with the virus as Em went back to checking and rechecking the data.

"She sure is bossy," Rinzler mused in a low voice.

"Heard that," the User hissed.

"And a stick in the mud apparently."

"Heard that one too."

"And a... a... User," the Enforcer grumbled as if it were an insult, "a young one too."

"It's either shut up or shut down, Rinzler," the said User scoffed without looking up from her work, "pick one, I'm cool with either."

"Can't you just delete the glitch?," I asked in an innocent tone only to meet two eerily similar glares, one sapphire blue and the other a dead amber-orange.

"Not without killing you in the process, null-bit," both Enforcer and User deadpanned in one voice before they paused and glared at each other for speaking in unison.

"Okay, I can't do anything with you two arguing like this," Em growled, opening another menu which I recognized this time, "it's shut down time for both of you."

"No," both Rinzler and I shouted as her fingers hovered over the command, "we'll behave!"

"My god, a five-year-old has more common sense than the two of you combined," Emily teased, fighting back a smile when I and my evil half engaged in a murder glare contest, "now you, Tron, lay back on that damn berth and stay there and you, Rinzler, keep that big mouth of yours shut. I get that you didn't speak for a thousand cycles and you have lots of personality issues, but still, if you mess my focus God knows what I can mess in your Disks."

"But..."

"That's up for you too, System Monitor," she warned, cutting my protest short, "I have to focus here so you don't end up derezzed... Or worse."

She returned to fiddling with my code as Rinzler began humming my adagio as his hologram paced around the room idly, looking at all the tech that was racked around the other berths.

"This is really nicely done," the Enforcer hummed as his immaterial hand ghosted over one of the devices, "one can take care of almost all malfunctions a Program can get with all these gears."

"But not repurposement," I said bitterly, bringing an unexpectedly sad smile on my evil half's lips.

"Not repurposement," he agreed, turning back to me, "Face it, Tron, you'll never be rid of me now that you resemble a User more than anything. We're in this together until we derezz."

"Don't expect me to like it," I growled softly.

"I wouldn't expect any less from you," he said slyly, "but we both have to live with it."

"I found the source," Emily announced abruptly, "the change affected some of your subroutines and they're clashing. I'll try and fix it."

She tugged at the code gently and a wave of pain hit my systems, tearing a shout out of my lips as my circuits flickered. I immediately knew that something was terribly wrong and the emergency shutdown protocols kicked in.

* * *

"You're losing him," Rinzler cried as I came back online.

"No I'm not," Emily's voice snarled, strained with intense concentration, "I've almost got it..."

Rinzler and I shrieked with pain at the same time and then it all faded away, allowing me to fully come back online. The Enforcer's hologram was on its hands and knees, panting hard and looking about as shaken as I felt, his image flickering before it settled back.

"What the hell happened," I demanded, getting up on wobbly feet only to get pushed back by the User.

"Turn around," she ordered, snapping the Disks back to the port, "That was one nasty glitch you had, but now it should feel a lot better."

"You say so?," Rinzler snarled, getting up, "Clu's testing hurt less than that thing."

"Would you rather derezz, 'cause I'd be happy to oblige if it wouldn't mean I lose him too," Emily growled before adding, "it would have spread if I didn't fix it in this early state, and you would have ended as a Stray."

"Okay, I take back my previous statement," Rinzler said quickly.

The Enforcer seemed to try to say something but it wouldn't get out. After a couple more nanos of chewing his words thoroughly he grumbled something too quiet to be heard.

"What was that," Em demanded.

"Um, uh... Thank you User," the Enforcer mumbled.

A surprise smile painted itself on the User's face and she bowed her head gracefully, blushing slightly. Well that was a first, I thought, Rinzler thanking a User for helping us. Hell had probably frozen somewhere as we were speaking.

* * *

**Day 6 - Friday (of foul-mouthed Users and traffic idiots)**

"I didn't go have some teenager fun in a while," Emily mused, tapping a slender finger on the steering wheel with a thoughtful look on her face, "We've been invited to a rager tonight night and I'l be damned if I miss this one, it's going to be epic."

"What's a rager," I asked confusedly.

"It's the wildest sort of house party..."

Another car bolted from a side street, crossing our path and the User hit the brakes with a sound curse that made even my worst choices of vocabulary seem tame. I jerked forwards against the seatbelt with the momentum and it forced out the air from my lungs.

"...Damn idiot, mind the crossroads you blockheaded jerk," she yelled out the window, making a very rude gesture at the other driver.

"Emily," I gasped as the User propped a palm against the horn of the car and held it there for a good 30 seconds.

"What, the fu..."

"EMILY!"

"..er didn't even look when he passed," she finished angrily, "He deserved worse than just calling him a son of a..."

I shot the User a stern look I kept for the times she misbehaved during a mission and she chuckled nervously, shrinking back into her seat.

"Damn it, User, that's one bad choice of vocabulary for a woman, be it User or Program," I chastised.

"Eep, he turned around," she squealed, cowering behind the steering wheel.

I evaluated the guy and didn't quite like the way he looked since he was easily twice my weight and almost as tall as me, wielding a dangerous looking baseball bat.

"I'd suggest embracing the oldest and noblest of pirate traditions," Emily chirped.

"And what might that be?"

"Run away as fast as we can," she squeaked, putting the car in gear.

"Then what are you waiting for," I growled as the guy came closer, "Punch it!"

The User obliged and stomped on the gas pedal all the way to the floor, speeding away from the angry driver with the sound of mistreated tires and leaving him in a cloud of dust as she cheered happily.

"Eat that, sucker," she hooted, pumping a fist in the air as she glanced in the rearview mirror, "Owned you, you idiot!"

Note to self: I have to wash the User's mouth with lots of soap. Lots and lots of soap.

* * *

"Why won't it staaaaart," Emily whined, aiming a well-placed kick at the Light Jet's hull, "glitching piece of shit, start already!"

"Hitting it won't help," I told her in a matter of fact tone.

"I'm sending this f..."

"LANGUAGE!," I snapped.

"...Frigging piece of scrap to the junkyard," she amended, glaring at me, "Seriously, Tron, it's annoying."

"Your choice of language is appalling," I shot back.

"I think I'm entitled to swear sometimes," she replied defensively.

"That's not an excuse for doing it all the time," I deadpanned.

"Oh, quit being such a stick in the mud and help me start this f..."

I unhooked my spare baton from its strap and gave her a hard rap to the head with it, leaping back when she lunged towards me with a growl.

"That damn hurt, idiot," Emily snapped, rubbing her head where I hit her.

"It was supposed to," I retorted smugly, twirling the baton between my fingers, "and I'll keep doing it until you stop using the f-word as a punctuation sign."

"You think that's bad, then take this" she spat, letting out a long stream of curses.

This time I swept her feet off the ground and sent her tumbling to meet with Mr. Floor.

"Don't push me," I chuckled evilly as she scrambled to her feet, "I trained you, remember? I can beat you to a pulp anytime."

If that murder glare was deadly indeed, I'd have been derezzed for a long time before the User hissed like a very pissed cat and lunged towards me. I simply stepped out of her way and let her crash to the floor again with yet another sound curse before I gave her another rap with the baton.

"Fine, I'll cut it out," she grumbled from the ground, "it was fun while it was."

"That's what I wanted to hear," I hummed contently, helping her get up.

I should have known that it wasn't over when her eyes glinted mischievously and she let out another swear before she bolted outside the garage as if Clu was chasing her with a bright grin on her face.

* * *

**Day 7 - Saturday (family problems or problem families?)**

"Take the next exit to the right and then it's the fourth house up the street," Emily indicated, groaning as her headache spiked again.

The party we went last evening was, lacking a better term to describe it, one of the wildest sort there is and Emily had a bit too many vodka and Red Bull shooters. Hell, who was I kidding, she had way too many shooters for her own good and now she had a massive hangover. I doubted that she could even remember half of the party and by the way she turned even paler and greener at the same time she had a hard time keeping her breakfast where it should be even though she insisted that she was fine, so I insisted on driving to her aunt's place instead of letting her do it. Going at her aunt's place wasn't exactly the User's idea of a fun way for spending the weekend but from what I had picked up from a very heated phone call she had no choice but to join the family meeting so she decided to spice it up by making me tag along.

"Is that it?," I asked, pointing to a brick house with three other cars parked on the driveway.

"Great, we're here already," Emily grumbled darkly, "Let's say hi and get going, that sounds like a good idea to me."

"Is it that bad? I thought that Users liked family reunions."

"Not with my family," she bellowed as we went out of the car, "you don't know my..."

"Emily, you're here," a high pitched voice squealed with delight, "I'm so glad you came!"

"...cousins," the User finished with a sigh as a pale blonde blur shot out of the front porch and nearly tackled Emily in a cloud of giggles and other happy sounds.

"I haven't seen you in ages," the other girl shrieked, "How are you? Did you finish high school? I'm going to Texas University, where are you going to college? Maybe we'll be at the same school. Do you have a boyfriend? Did you get a dress for prom yet?"

Okay, so there is someone worse than Quorra on one of her extra curious moments. The newcomer was skinny to the point of giving me the impression that a gush of wind would put her flat on her back, with a mane of bleach blonde hair and what seemed like an exaggerated love for everything purple by the color of her barely-there tank top and shorts. When Emily's answer was yet another pitiful groan as she attempted to regain her balance after the very… interesting welcome the girl turned to me, inspecting me carefully before she spilled another wave of questions.

"Who are you? Are you Em's boyfriend? Man, you're ripped she got really lucky. Did you get that scar in a car accident? How old are you? Do you like chocolate or vanilla ice-cream?"

"To answer your questions in order: my name's Tim, no, I'm her roommate, thanks, it's a long story, I'm nineteen, and I'll pick chocolate," I said with a slight smile.

"Glad to meet you, Tim," the girl beamed, squeezing my hand in an iron grip, "I'm Angela but you can call me Angie."

"Can we get inside now, Angie," Emily intervened, rubbing her temples, "I need something for a headache."

"Right away," her cousin quipped, bolting inside and we followed.

"She talks a lot," I noted, earning a weak laugh from Emily.

"Yeah, I know, she's the perfect brainless Barbie," she said, "I swear there's nothing in that head of hers and she thinks we're best buddies or something."

"I guess the feeling isn't mutual," I rumbled.

"The award for the biggest understatement goes to Tron," the User deadpanned, "it's going to be a long day."

Dinner was an interesting experience, more so since I was seated between the two cousins. Between Angela's seemingly endless stream of questions and an increasingly annoyed Emily whose scowl deepened by the second as she stabbed the steak in her plate like it brought her a personal offence I reconsidered my opinion about Rinzler's company. I could have someone to complain to at least, but the Enforcer was just as pissed as Emily was and not in a very talkative mood.

_"I'd say to pay a bit of attention to the User_," he growled inside my head.

_"Which one of them_," I groaned.

_"The one you live with, null-unit, she's going to derezz that girl if she leans over to us one more time,"_ Rinzler deadpanned.

Angela seemed to take a liking towards me much to her cousin's dismay and for the entire day she trailed me like a squeaking and giggling hellhound, batting her eyelashes and trying to get me alone. I knew all too well what Em's reaction would be so I tried to stay away from the blonde, managing to evade her pretty well until she insisted to sit beside me at dinner under the pretext of wanting to learn more about life in 'the Big Apple'. I expected Emily to snap and shoo her away but the User stuck to brooding in silence and a lot of dirty glares towards her cousin, leaving me to nod absently at whatever the other girl said and contemplate the idea of using something from the table to shut her up before my logic systems crashed from so much babble. I glanced at Emily and saw that her hands were curling into fists and then relaxing at even intervals under the table and she pointed a glare at the food in her plate, looking anywhere but at me and her giggling cousin. I couldn't get a good view but I knew that she was so angry she made the small piece of viral encoding she had assimilated in her system flare up, bringing that eerie orange tinge to her eyes she only got when someone had the misfortune to piss her off so badly she'd send them on an one way trip to meet their maker without a second thought.

_"Thanks for the tip,"_ I told Rinzler mentally.

_"Don't mention it, I'm just trying to keep our head where it should be and not in a box."_

After a couple more minutes of simmering in silence as Angela continued her attempts to woo me Emily quit playing with her food and got up from her seat still ignoring my questioning glance.

"I'll go get some fresh air," she announced flatly, heading out of the dining room without another word.

_"Go after her, null-unit_,_"_ Rinzler scoffed.

_"She went to..."_

_"You're really unobservant for a System Monitor sometimes,"_ the Enforcer deadpanned.

_"And why is that,"_ I demanded.

_"Users, just do it already. We need some fresh air too after feeling like we got assaulted by a thousand energized ISOs, I don't know about you but that girl drives me nuts."_

"Hey, I'll go out too for a second," I told Angela, interrupting her story about her last vacation.

"Oh, I'm coming too," she chirped.

This girl's playing with fire, I thought, either that or she's stupid.

"I'd rather go alone if you don't mind," I rumbled, "I need a walk."

And I need to calm Emily down before she does something she'll probably regret sometime in the next two gigacycles, though I don't think anyone would miss all that talk.

"Oh, okay," the girl said with a slight pout, "but don't go too far away or Emily will give me a hard time for having you get lost."

She'll give you a hard time anyway, will probably use a plate instead of a Disk and use you as target practice and I'll probably get my rear end handed to me in our next training session too. Scratch that, I'll consider myself lucky if I make it out alive after tonight.

"I'm sure she will," I hummed, getting up and leaving the table.

I found Emily in the back yard with what looked like a bottle of wine pilfered from the kitchen and a handful of knives spread on the grass in front of her. She was holding one by the blade and in the blink of an eye she threw it in a perfect arc, making it dig up to the handle in a large tree she used as a target before picking up another one.

"How come that you left your new friend," she asked in a deceivingly calm tone, "I thought you had a very interesting conversation in there."

"I'd rather call it a monologue if you don't mind," I said, watching her prepare for the shot, "and it was not interesting at all."

Her arm lashed out again, burying the knife into the wood a few inches above the first one and I noticed that despite her perfect aim her hands were shaking badly as she got the rest of the blades. The third and fourth one followed the others in a straight line up the tree, but at the fifth throw she gripped the blade too tight and hissed as it cut through her hand. She threw it anyway, finishing the line of slightly shaking handles that pieced her target before she bent over to get the wine bottle and took a long sip of it.

"You shouldn't do that," I pointed, "you already had a massive hangover, do you really want another?"

"Who cares," she retorted, "it's not like I give a hell on how I feel at the moment."

"Well I care."

"Do you now," Emily said and I could hear sarcasm mixing with something else in her voice.

"If you have something to say, say it, User," I deadpanned, "leave the games for another time."

"Maybe I don't like the way my Gridbug of a cousin tries to get your attention," she growled, taking another gulp of the wine.

"Oh come on, Em, she's annoying and to be honest I have no idea how to drive her away," I admitted.

"You seemed to be okay with her company," the User retorted.

Users, did she lose what was left of her mind?!

_"No, Tron, it's... Users, you've read all those books, not me, I don't know how to call it...,"_ Rinzler gave a mental growl, trying to find the right word, _"Jealous, maybe?"_

Another point for the virus.

"Hey, don't get mad about it, I don't like the situation either," I told Emily.

The User shot me a glare and then looked down at her bleeding hand sighing in annoyance.

"Great," she grumbled, "I don't think there is a Band-Aid big enough to fix this."

"Let me see."

"No," Emily hissed, snatching her hand away, "it's just a cut... Okay, a big cut."

"Will you ever stop being stubborn and listen to me for once," I sighed with slight annoyance and the User finally gave in, showing me her palm, "You're fussing over nothing at all. Why do you hate that girl so much, apart from the too much talking part which I understand completely?"

"She's a dumb bimbo who changes boyfriends about as often as I change my socks," she said, "I hate the idea of her making you her next acquisition. Don't get me wrong, I'm not planning on dating you myself anytime soon, but it's like letting the big brother I never had go out with the neighborhood skank."

"So Rinzler was only half right," I mused, "you're not jealous."

"Maybe I am... just a bit," she murmured, turning a bright shade of scarlet.

"So I'm the big brother you've never had, huh? I thought that was Mike."

"Mike's the best friend," she corrected, cradling her wounded hand, "but I've been growing fond of you and... I'm getting a bit protective at times with the people I care for."

"And you gave me a hard time for not letting you get in all sorts of trouble," I teased.

"I overreact sometimes," Emily shrugged.

"Well then, little sis," I told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as I led her to the house, "we should get you to the hospital; you've got yourself cut almost to the bone with that knife."

"Hey, Aunt Irene," Emily called, sticking her head through the dining room door, "can you drive us to the ER? I got a nasty cut."

"I'm coming too," Angela chirped from inside.

"NO YOU'RE NOT," we both shrieked.

"But..."

"Angie, come here for a bit," Emily purred, a wicked smile on her lips as she whispered something in the other girl's ear that made her go pale and run away almost in tears.

"What did you tell her," I asked in a low voice as we entered the emergency room a little later.

"Oh, that," Emily chuckled, "I told her that if she bugs you or me anymore she'll have the same fate her old bichon had after she dyed mine pink in fourth grade."

"And what is that," I asked, somehow expecting the answer to be on the nasty side.

"I shaved it naked," the User laughed evilly, "and for her I would have cranked it up like ten notches and I would have even pulled your dye prank in royal purple, not green. Just to be clear, she didn't mess with me for a long time after shaving her dog and it was worth getting grounded for a week when Mom found out."

Ten stitches and a nasty reprimand about improper use of knives later we were back at the family reunion and somehow Emily managed to turn the stiff atmosphere into what looked now like what Flynn used to describe about this kind of meetings: noisy, a tad embarrassing at times and more often than not fun. Okay, it was actually pretty embarrassing at times, and that's something if it comes from me after living with Flynn for some time.


End file.
